Broken, Crimson Rose [adult books to read TXT] 📗
- Author: Crimson Rose
Book online «Broken, Crimson Rose [adult books to read TXT] 📗». Author Crimson Rose
no school, no work and just the therapist on Thursday. So I stayed in bed, and spend half of my day there. Between sleeping and awake. I saw dreams, no, nightmares that I tried to shake off. In one of them was Dean, in jail, next to the punk kid. When I woke up screaming 'NO! Get him out!' I didn't know for who I said that. I don't know how, but in someway there is a sort of connection between me and that punk kid. Even if its the last thing I do, I'll find that kid. Who knows, maybe he's my brother from my dads other family... What am I thinking, this is how you get after a whole day in bed...
26t of May
Dean called, asking me if I was going to school, and if not if he could come with me and accompany me as I play the violin. I told him I was grounded, and he just laughed. When I asked why, he said 'You're not used to getting grounded, are you?' I shook my head, but then remembered I'm on the phone and told him 'No, why?'. 'Get dressed, I'll be there in a few.' and he hung up the phone. So we were gonna sneak out? I could play the bad girl... My mom was out at work, I don't know how she trusted me. She has been working as an asocial professors dentists secretary for a while now. Although first she wasn't accepted for the job, I guess the guy got too desperate to call her two days later. And now as from my observations, he is pretty satisfied from her work. She gets easily adapted to almost anything. So, although I had no shower, by the time he had come, I looked black enough to go out, you know, emo. 'So, what mischief are we up to?' he took my hand 'We're going where every grounded kid goes...' this sounded like dirty business. But it wasn't. He took me by the sea shore. I wasn't expecting this. 'Dean, you know its too cold for this, and I ain't doing skinny dipping.' then he hugged me, and it was too late when I realized he had took off my golden necklace in the shape of a treble clef. It was a birthday present from my grandma on my 10th birthday, just days before she died. Dean put it around his neck, I was spending my time on trying to understand whats going on, while he took his clothes off till his underwear and ran into the ocean. I started running, tripping over my jeans since I partly took them off, then jumped in with him. The water was freezing, but it felt great, on my scars. Once we were tired enough and freezing to our bones, we lied on the sand, the sun stinging my eyes. I felt free, I felt alive. Then we picked up our clothes, and hand in hand he dragged me along with him. I got my head in the clouds, my feet bare on the rode. Across the seashore, is a pine tree forest. He stopped in front of a tree, and pointed up. Up there was a handmade tree house. 'It's been a while since my last time here. We made this a while ago, with my dad.' we got up from the rope lather, where upstairs we made out again.
28th of May
Beyond being grounded, my mom doesn't talk to me, since Wednesday, when I came home with sand in my pockets, salty damp hair and one of the pairs of my boots missing. But I don't care, because that was the day when I came back to life. My mom was just being unfair, that's what Dean tells me. He also tells me I'm 15, and I can be as crazy as I like. But I'm not sure if my therapist agrees on that point. Today he told me 'You don't take your medication, so you'll be coming twice a week, starting next Monday.' I wanted to tell him "I don't need to come, I'm happy!" but I can't be sure if the happiness will carry on. But I only nod my head. He asked me if I wanted to say anything, since I was biting my lip, so I told him how happy I was in a long time. 'Now, are you trying to fool me not to come?' suspicions, he doesn't trust me, but he doesn't know I trust him, maybe he does... I don't know. It took me quite a few sessions to tell him about the cutting, but in the end I did. After that, I had no doubts on telling him anything, because on the first time I told him about the cutting i expected him to react, but he didn't. He just shook his head and wrote that down. Since then I know I can tell him anything, everything... What did he just ask? Did I go in a trans again? 'What? Sorry, I guess I went into dreaming again...' but he wasn't there. Where was he? I checked my watch, we still had some time. I got out of the room, and there he was, the punk kid, his head down, his mom holding by his upper arm, squeezing. He looked as if he was in trouble. My therapist was talking rapidly at his mom, nodding, and talking again. I looked at the boy, and he looked at me, with furious eyes. Almost angry, at me? My therapist looked back, and found me standing at the doorway. 'See you on Monday Becca.' and I left.
30th of May
I haven't been seeing Dean since. He's avoiding me, because of regrets? Did he regret what we have done? I don think so, he doesn't regret things like that. Plus, we had had a great time. Maybe he got into trouble with his parents or something. I'm surprise he didn't get grounded after he got expelled. Either he did, but everyday ran out, or his parents don't talk to him and leave him alone. My mom often does that, and its worst than another punishment I've ever been through. Except life's punishment. So today, I took my violin and passed by Dean's house which is only a few blocks away. First I was gonna throw a rock into his window just like he has done, but then I realized I am not sure which window is his, and plus, I might break it... Better not to risk... So I went ahead and was just about to ring their doorbell, when he, himself, stormed out. Not even looking into my face, he said 'Becca, you shouldn't be here.' what was wrong? Have I done something? I didn't answer, and just started to walk. What ever he had to say, I didn't want to listen. After I walked for a while, and was almost sure he wouldn't run behind my back, he did. 'I'm sorry Becca, can we talk?' I stopped. And listened. 'Becca, I'm in serious trouble. Its hard to say this, but we cant be friends any longer.' I guess he expected me to say something, but I didn't, so he went on 'I don't know how he knows, but my dad knows about Wednesday. He freaked out. He was furious, he went on asking if I was nuts, after what happened with school. And...and, he told me we were gonna move...Away, to Canada.' I put my head up, as a Uhaul truck passed by. He whispered 'I'm gonna miss you.' and just went, like that. No hug, or a last kiss. But it was better this way, so I really know he means it.
1st of May
These are my last words, and I am using a lot of effort to write them. I knew in the end I would commit suicide, but a week ago, if you have asked me, I would never have guessed today's the day. If I never write in this diary again, know that my suicide attempt has been successful, my only success in life, and I'm in that 5 percent dead population.
Today is Monday. The day my therapist expected me to come. My mom had to drop me off, since I've been too sick to even walk since the day Dean has left. Not physically sick, but mentally, worst than ever. My mom just boosted off since she had to go back to work. What happened next...was just...is there a word to it? Horrible. I stepped inside. My therapist rarely comes out of his room, that depressing, but at the same time comforting room, where he sits on his indigo couch. When I saw him in the entrance, my face lightened up. But then...the punk boy came. With a knife in his hands. And stabbed him. Multiple times. He stabbed, then pulled, he stabbed, then pulled. I don't know where he went, because all my attention was on my therapist, whom I've never asked his name, so the best I can do is to call him my therapist. He went on his knees, then on the floor. And blood, dark red blood came, worst than Lucifers. He was dying, before my eyes, and I wasn't doing anything to stop it. His mouth filled with blood. Then his eyes, his hazel eyes, slowly, closed forever.
Now Dean gone, my dad gone, my friends gone, Lucifer gone, my violin gone, and finally my therapist, forever, gone, why should I carry on? Whats the point? Why suffer in this world of only cries an pain? So mom, I love you, but its my turn to be gone, along with my therapist and Lucifer. Forever, and in peace. Peace at last.
I hope everyone else will have a happy life. Dean, I hope you can make it to my funeral, if there will be one, where you'll see my dads other family if he comes and brings them along.
Imprint
26t of May
Dean called, asking me if I was going to school, and if not if he could come with me and accompany me as I play the violin. I told him I was grounded, and he just laughed. When I asked why, he said 'You're not used to getting grounded, are you?' I shook my head, but then remembered I'm on the phone and told him 'No, why?'. 'Get dressed, I'll be there in a few.' and he hung up the phone. So we were gonna sneak out? I could play the bad girl... My mom was out at work, I don't know how she trusted me. She has been working as an asocial professors dentists secretary for a while now. Although first she wasn't accepted for the job, I guess the guy got too desperate to call her two days later. And now as from my observations, he is pretty satisfied from her work. She gets easily adapted to almost anything. So, although I had no shower, by the time he had come, I looked black enough to go out, you know, emo. 'So, what mischief are we up to?' he took my hand 'We're going where every grounded kid goes...' this sounded like dirty business. But it wasn't. He took me by the sea shore. I wasn't expecting this. 'Dean, you know its too cold for this, and I ain't doing skinny dipping.' then he hugged me, and it was too late when I realized he had took off my golden necklace in the shape of a treble clef. It was a birthday present from my grandma on my 10th birthday, just days before she died. Dean put it around his neck, I was spending my time on trying to understand whats going on, while he took his clothes off till his underwear and ran into the ocean. I started running, tripping over my jeans since I partly took them off, then jumped in with him. The water was freezing, but it felt great, on my scars. Once we were tired enough and freezing to our bones, we lied on the sand, the sun stinging my eyes. I felt free, I felt alive. Then we picked up our clothes, and hand in hand he dragged me along with him. I got my head in the clouds, my feet bare on the rode. Across the seashore, is a pine tree forest. He stopped in front of a tree, and pointed up. Up there was a handmade tree house. 'It's been a while since my last time here. We made this a while ago, with my dad.' we got up from the rope lather, where upstairs we made out again.
28th of May
Beyond being grounded, my mom doesn't talk to me, since Wednesday, when I came home with sand in my pockets, salty damp hair and one of the pairs of my boots missing. But I don't care, because that was the day when I came back to life. My mom was just being unfair, that's what Dean tells me. He also tells me I'm 15, and I can be as crazy as I like. But I'm not sure if my therapist agrees on that point. Today he told me 'You don't take your medication, so you'll be coming twice a week, starting next Monday.' I wanted to tell him "I don't need to come, I'm happy!" but I can't be sure if the happiness will carry on. But I only nod my head. He asked me if I wanted to say anything, since I was biting my lip, so I told him how happy I was in a long time. 'Now, are you trying to fool me not to come?' suspicions, he doesn't trust me, but he doesn't know I trust him, maybe he does... I don't know. It took me quite a few sessions to tell him about the cutting, but in the end I did. After that, I had no doubts on telling him anything, because on the first time I told him about the cutting i expected him to react, but he didn't. He just shook his head and wrote that down. Since then I know I can tell him anything, everything... What did he just ask? Did I go in a trans again? 'What? Sorry, I guess I went into dreaming again...' but he wasn't there. Where was he? I checked my watch, we still had some time. I got out of the room, and there he was, the punk kid, his head down, his mom holding by his upper arm, squeezing. He looked as if he was in trouble. My therapist was talking rapidly at his mom, nodding, and talking again. I looked at the boy, and he looked at me, with furious eyes. Almost angry, at me? My therapist looked back, and found me standing at the doorway. 'See you on Monday Becca.' and I left.
30th of May
I haven't been seeing Dean since. He's avoiding me, because of regrets? Did he regret what we have done? I don think so, he doesn't regret things like that. Plus, we had had a great time. Maybe he got into trouble with his parents or something. I'm surprise he didn't get grounded after he got expelled. Either he did, but everyday ran out, or his parents don't talk to him and leave him alone. My mom often does that, and its worst than another punishment I've ever been through. Except life's punishment. So today, I took my violin and passed by Dean's house which is only a few blocks away. First I was gonna throw a rock into his window just like he has done, but then I realized I am not sure which window is his, and plus, I might break it... Better not to risk... So I went ahead and was just about to ring their doorbell, when he, himself, stormed out. Not even looking into my face, he said 'Becca, you shouldn't be here.' what was wrong? Have I done something? I didn't answer, and just started to walk. What ever he had to say, I didn't want to listen. After I walked for a while, and was almost sure he wouldn't run behind my back, he did. 'I'm sorry Becca, can we talk?' I stopped. And listened. 'Becca, I'm in serious trouble. Its hard to say this, but we cant be friends any longer.' I guess he expected me to say something, but I didn't, so he went on 'I don't know how he knows, but my dad knows about Wednesday. He freaked out. He was furious, he went on asking if I was nuts, after what happened with school. And...and, he told me we were gonna move...Away, to Canada.' I put my head up, as a Uhaul truck passed by. He whispered 'I'm gonna miss you.' and just went, like that. No hug, or a last kiss. But it was better this way, so I really know he means it.
1st of May
These are my last words, and I am using a lot of effort to write them. I knew in the end I would commit suicide, but a week ago, if you have asked me, I would never have guessed today's the day. If I never write in this diary again, know that my suicide attempt has been successful, my only success in life, and I'm in that 5 percent dead population.
Today is Monday. The day my therapist expected me to come. My mom had to drop me off, since I've been too sick to even walk since the day Dean has left. Not physically sick, but mentally, worst than ever. My mom just boosted off since she had to go back to work. What happened next...was just...is there a word to it? Horrible. I stepped inside. My therapist rarely comes out of his room, that depressing, but at the same time comforting room, where he sits on his indigo couch. When I saw him in the entrance, my face lightened up. But then...the punk boy came. With a knife in his hands. And stabbed him. Multiple times. He stabbed, then pulled, he stabbed, then pulled. I don't know where he went, because all my attention was on my therapist, whom I've never asked his name, so the best I can do is to call him my therapist. He went on his knees, then on the floor. And blood, dark red blood came, worst than Lucifers. He was dying, before my eyes, and I wasn't doing anything to stop it. His mouth filled with blood. Then his eyes, his hazel eyes, slowly, closed forever.
Now Dean gone, my dad gone, my friends gone, Lucifer gone, my violin gone, and finally my therapist, forever, gone, why should I carry on? Whats the point? Why suffer in this world of only cries an pain? So mom, I love you, but its my turn to be gone, along with my therapist and Lucifer. Forever, and in peace. Peace at last.
I hope everyone else will have a happy life. Dean, I hope you can make it to my funeral, if there will be one, where you'll see my dads other family if he comes and brings them along.
Imprint
Publication Date: 03-10-2011
All Rights Reserved
Dedication:
to my own therapist
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