I struggled to zip the back of my dress on my own, not that struggling with things was something new for me.
I didn't like my appearance but I knew others would, and I guess that's what I was going for. I'm stuck here in California, so I might as well fit in and make some friends.
My dress was short, my hair was straightened, my makeup was apparent and my confidence was low. I grabbed my fake ID that Austin had given me weeks ago and stuffed it in my bag, along with my phone, i was going to be normal.
Penny boarding to a club was sort of a bad start to 'being normal' I got many weird looks from people stepping out of limos and taxis. The line to get in was long, but since Austin got us in so quickly I figured I could get myself in quickly as well.
I approached the man, he scanned me up and down, raising his eyebrows approvingly. "Identification?" he asked in a gravely tone. I nodded and grabbed the laminated card from my bag and handed it to him. His eyes flickered from the picture to me a few times before he handed it back to me and allowing me to enter. That was easy enough.
The music was loud and made my head pound more than it already was, older men stared at me like a piece of meat, or maybe like an article of clothing that they could put on then leave to never wear again. It was off putting.
I didn't know what drink to get, mostly because I had no idea what any of them were, they all had names that probably had nothing to do with the contents. I stared blankly at the bar tender for a few seconds after he asked what I wanted.
"Surprise me?" I said questioningly, I saw a smirk grow on his dry lips. I watched him mix a fancy drink before setting it in front of me. The light blue liquid was calling my name, but I wasn't sure if it was telling me to drink it or run away from it. Little fizz bubbles danced around, floating up to the top before disappearing. I noticed the man who prepared this concoction was watching me, like he didn't think I'd actually drink it.
But I, being one to prove others wrong, brought the cup to my lips and took it all at once. It didn't burn as bad as I expected, but it hit me instantly.
I saw that I was still being watched by middle aged men, maybe coming here wasn't a good idea. I got up to walk to the bathroom. Blood instantly rushed to my head and the room began to spin. I stumbled back into the arms of a man, I looked up and saw his devious smile; that was the last thing I saw before I fell into darkness.
(Two weeks later)
Cold showers couldn't wash off the filth that took home on my skin, but it kept me awake. Who needs sleep anyway?
I felt woozy. I'd been standing in the shower for hours now. My knees buckled and I soon found myself laying in a heap on the floor; but this was nothing new. I reached up and pushed down a piece of metal that converted my shower to a bath. I stuck the plug in the drain and stared blankly at the ceiling as the cold water climbed my frail body.
Who cares how high the water is? I'm already in over my head. I don't know how to move on when every time I close my eyes I see their eyes drenched in the most unworthy intention. I need someone to tell me that it's okay. That I'm okay. But I know I'm not, I know I never will be. Who knows, maybe if I let myself die someone will come to care, maybe I'll be remembered as the girl everyone forgot.
I let the water run over; I mean who cares? Water dries, it leaves nothing behind but damp tracks that soon dry and disappear, never to be remembered. I wish my memories were like water, I wish I could walk over them without being able to look back and remember what happened.
I want to set fire to my insides, I want to feel shiny and clean and untouched. But instead I'll stay here, staying underwater until my lungs burn and beg for air, just so I can feel my heart beat. Just so I know I'm alive.
I don't answer. What difference would it make?
A knock sounded on the door. "December are you okay?"
I like the sound of my name coming from other peoples mouths, even if it's just my father.
The door creaked open but I couldn't come to acknowledge it, I was floating on more than just water, I knew my sanity was below me too.
"December! What're you doing!?" He shouted, turning off the water which had long been overcoming the washroom floor. I didn't care that I was naked, I didn't care if he was mad. "Are you insane?!"
I wanted to say yes, but the voices in my head answered for me, scratching at the walls of my skull, begging me to act on my emotions. I was pulled from the tub and wrapped in a towel.
"Do you want to go to bed?" he asked as he lead me towards my bedroom.
I stopped, causing him to turn and face me. "I think I'm gonna go take a shower." I decided, trying to turn back the other way. His grip tightened on my wrist.
"No December you just had a bath." He insisted, pulling me into my room. I looked down at myself, I began shaking. I was filthy. I'm made of filth. I need to shower. I need to be clean.
My father dressed my in a night gown and lead me downstairs, sitting me on the couch. I watched as he took his phone out of his pocket and dialled three numbers, but not clicking call. "December I'm calling you an ambulance." He stated calmly.
I tilted my head. "But why?" I asked softly.
His chin quivered. "Because you're very sick darling." I heard his voice crack.
I laughed lightly and shook my head before standing and approaching him, he looked scared. "No, I'm just expressing myself. I'm getting quite good at it too." I smiled at him. I lifted my arm into his view. "This ones named Janet, she was very annoying. She wasn't even as bad as the others but she wouldn't stop crying..." I trailed off into silence as I stared down at the self destruction I'd perform on my arms. I've become what I hated.
I saw his eyes flicker to his phone. In one swift motion I smacked it out of his hands, causing it to smash on the hardwood flooring below. His eyes widened but they didn't wander from me, like he was scared I'd do something if he looked away.
"Do you still want to make that call? You can use my phone if you'd like." I offered.
I saw him swallow. "Maybe you should go to bed." He smiled, obviously fake. I slowly nodded and turned.
Once I was in my room I heard the distinct sound of the door locking from the outside. I didn't really mind though, I have everything I need in here; nothing.
After all, everything that I love dies when I touch it, which explains why I don't die when my skin comes in contact with my own.
I think I've finally come to grips that I can't come to grips. I think I've finally come to grips that I'm okay with that. I think the blood has been drained from my veins and replaced with something weak and colourless because my heart refuses to beat like it used to.
It's so exhausting feeling everything and nothing at once.
Yes it's short, sorry.
It's still difficult for me to write, but I shouldn't let that stop me. It's extremely selfish of me to not write this. I know a few of you really like this story, so me letting my personal life get in the way of something that I've committed to do is utterly childish, so I'd like to apologize for being such an idiot.
Sorry that this is so dark. I can't write happy things anymore. I think my mental health is deteriorating because I can't eat or sleep much anymore. All I do is watch my flowers grow, i think it's eye opening know that I'm in charge of their life, they die if I become careless. Sometimes I wonder if my mother died because I was careless. But I won't let these flowers die because I know that I'm all they have. Weird.
Anyways, so I'm sorry for being a dick, and I'm sorry that I was careless and let my mum die, and I'm sorry that I can't write well. I would say I'm improving but I don't like lying.
YOU ARE READING
Frozen Solid // Alan AshbyFanfiction
∥December's life had always been, unique. She'd been homeschooled her whole entire life. She made no friends, her mother convinced her that books and skates were the only friends she needed. But when December turns 17, her mother sends her away from...