What is Write

Part Three

Mom and dad walk through the door to the newly cleaned house. "Hey guys," mom barely gets out as she carries all her bags through the front door.

"Hi mommy!" Julia screams as she attacks mom. Already kissing up, wow.

"Hi family," I say and take the bags from them.

"So what did you guys do while we were gone?" Dad asks.

"Nothing much," I respond as calm as I possibly can. "But I was going to go see a movie tonight." I add, hoping no one would notice.

"With who?" Mom heard me, of course. "Nic" I murmur.

"Alexa," mom starts "what did we tell you about Nic."

"It doesn't make any sense! No logical reason for it." I come back at her as my dad and sister leave the room. They know another argument is about to erupt.

"I told you no."

"But why?" I shout back at her.

Without raising her voice, she answers, "You won't understand know, but in the future you will." She calmly rubs my arm.

"I'm pretty sure I can know now, mom. I'm not a little kid and if I really shouldn't be with him I want to know now."

"And you do know now, I'm telling you." She sighs as though she's tired of this conversation.

"But don't you think I can make my own decisions by now?" I snap at my mother.

"Alexa, I said to stay away from him, and that's what you are going to do."

I huff as loud as I possibly can, and head to my room. My mind is turning at full speed again. I grab a pen, and some paper as fast as I can. The door to my room shuts behind me/]. I pull the chair out from under the desk and take a sit for the ride.The words start coming fast this time. They have never come this fast before. II can hear what the voices are saying, it's repeating, and repeating.

Keep your thoughts keep your thoughts
don't turn don't turn

In repetition these words keep coming, and coming, changing from one phrase to the other. I have never had just a couple words in my head before. The black pen dances across the white paper as though the pen as a soul itself. As though the pen hears the voices too. I can feel it building even though I am writing. The words keep getting louder, and louder even as I write them. The words keep coming faster than I can write them, all swirling around in my head.

I hear a knock at my door. "Are coming down for supper? I've been calling you." My mother calls from behind the door. My chair is now up against the bottom on my bed, I'm sprawled out on the floor.

"One second," I call back. I start to sit up, trying to realize how I am in this position. I remember my voices coming, and them repeating loudly. I must have blacked out, I guess. I move from the floor back up to my desk, my white pristine papers are now covered in black. I pick up my chair and place it under my table once more. I rush downstairs for some supper like nothing is wrong.