My head under the grey clouds

First chapter

Sometimes I'm happy,sometimes I already forgot what was before my life in Brighton. But other days or nights just pushed me back into my dark reality.

I opened my eye's and stared into the pitch black room that I called my bedroom. I started to breath heavily when I tried to escape my anxiety. I slipped out of my bed and sprint to my light switch. One second after that, my small room was bright illuminated,and I could feel how my legs gave in and I found myself sitting on the ground. "It will never end...why can I just forget everything?"after whispering to myself, my tears start to run down my cold cheeks, and my whole world broke apart,again.....like in so many other sleepless and lonely nights.

I heard the sound of a breaking mug after that my knee start to burn, I opened my eye's, jumped up from my couch with a little scream and stept perfectly into my broken coffee mug that belonged into my left hand just a few seconds ago. I screamed again louder than I thought I could after a sleepless night. I jumped back and tripped over the blanket that was lying on the ground, five seconds later I was lying between my couch and my now broken glass coffee table. And the only thing I could feel was pain! Pain in my bloody right foot, in my elbow which was stuck in my broken table. Oh and of course I could feel broken pieces of glass in my hand and faces. And I say it again.Sometimes you shouldn't try to get up,and right now I think it would be better not to try.

After some long minutes I removed myself out of this sticky situation and limped with painful groaning in my bathroom. I managed myself slowly on the bathtub and let out a sharp breath " holy mother of god...how should I'll be able to get this shit out of my body?" I grabbed the tweezer from the sink before me, and than I started to pull out the glass out of my hand. After a few pieces it wasn't that painful anymore but my hand was now a bloddy cheese. After I managed to get everything out of my elbow I looked on the floor where a puddle of blood was. Sighed " lucky me that I'm not terrified of blood" no, that's right, I definitely had much worse wounds than this. After some time I pulled every piece of glass out of my body, I threw the tweezer into the sink and moved my legs slowly into the bathtub so I'll be able to wash all the blood from me, after that my wounds didn't looked that bad anymore, just some deeper cuts here and there. Now completely doctored I looked like someone beat me up " yeah good old days charlie" I said sarcastic to myself in the mirror "You should do something productive like, I don't know.. clean your floor from your blood and maybe not talking to yourself?" I looked provocative to myself. After my face returned to his tired look I decided to clean my bathroom before the blood starts to dry.

I fell exhausted on my couch after I cleaned my house, I looked angry before me " now I have to buy a new coffee table, shit bread" I sighed and stood up again " but my little poor chill hole would look so empty without a table" I went a little bit limping to my front door and put my shoes on, grabbed my parka with my house Key's in it and went out of my small flat.

I went slowly down the street, I think it's okey that I have to buy another table now "after all,dusk has already begun" with those little words I could cheer myself a little bit up and could really enjoy this snowy dusk.

It was already night when I came back home, I pulled the huge cardboard through my door and closed the door behind me " golly I'm really happy that this building has a lift" I chuckled over my own weakness.I pushed the cardboard into my living room and leaned it behind my couch. I managed to make myself a tasty meal before I went to my bedroom. I threw my clothes to the ground and was ready to jump into my bed,but I had to check my mails before I could end this day. So I sat down on my desk, turned on my music and started to answering my work mails . It was something that I really liked to do, because I had just three type's of mail's,number one was trash,number two was my publisher and number three where my fans. Yeah I, charlie kennedy ,23 years old have fans,many fans, when I was 20 I was lucky, because one of my book's got really popular and now many people reading my book's. I'm happy about that but would I'll be here when I didn't run away from my past? I looked out of my window on the snowy street. Who would I'll be when my family wouldn't hate me? " maybe I would be an engineer and straight" I start to laugh over my situation. I was terrified of everything that I left in Europe, my so-called home,my family. But I'm a scared bunny so I did not talk about my problems, and just decided to ran away. As always.
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