Kind of an excerpt. It isn’t from any story of mine, just something heartfelt I needed to write right now. Hope you enjoy.
You said you loved me.
The roaring of the wind in her ears blew her hair over her face, wrapping around to block her vision. She could only see in bits and pieces between the curtain that enveloped her, not that it really mattered. The fog in front of her made it difficult to see through, it curled around her body like a blanket on a cold winter’s night. She knew the tendrils of the fog were there, she could feel its icy fingers caressing her flesh in strokes, but she didn’t care. The water beneath lapped at the rocks that made a jagged path up towards up, opening it’s mouth to welcome her home. Finally, she could just forget it all. One step and she could join those who she belonged with.
I did. I still do, just not like that anymore.
I gave you everything.
I know. I’m sorry.
Was it the rain that poured from the black swollen clouds that cascaded down her cheeks or tears that screamed in pain washing down from her eyes? The difference couldn’t be told anymore, her cheeks had long gone numb from the cold of the slashing water that the sky poured down. She didn’t care though. She had long ago stopped feeling everything. Everything except that aching pain that ricocheted in her chest, beating in her ears like a never-ending drum.
Thump. Thump. Thumpthumpthump.
She couldn’t breathe and sometimes, she just didn’t want to. Everything hurt, nothing made sense. It was like the fog that hugged her close, she couldn’t see through it.
I gave you everything.
I know. I’m sorry.
Her entire life had been halted, one press of a button to keep from moving forward. Stuck on pause and she got to comfortable. Now that there was time for change, she didn’t know how to deal with it, there could be no way. But there was always a way, just exactly where she didn’t know. She couldn’t see further then her hand when she reached forward. Blind, she was to the part that could pull her forward. It was why she was listening to those voices that beckoned her home, desperately calling her name. They spoke to her at night when her head was clear and promises sweet lullabies of the life she craved. And all she could do was scream into the storm, scream at the top of her lungs, and beg that someone would hear her. Beg that someone would see her tears when she hid them so well. Beg that someone could see past the smile she hid behind and hear those silent cries that she wept at night. But no one ever saw, no one could, and they never would.
People see what they want to see. They don’t want to see a broken mirror, so instead they see fractured glass that can be glued together. They don’t want to see a storm brewing, so instead the earth needing nourishment after a drought. Ignorance at its best. People only see what they want to see and sometimes, when they finally open their eyes, it’s almost too late.
I said I’m sorry.
The pain will never end. It’s always going to be there.
The tears will always be in the back, threatening to explode at even the sound of a penny dropping. The waterfall is always ready to erupt into the stream and the storm is always brewing. And she always pleads for help, but no one ever hears. No one ever wants to. So, she cries herself to sleep and wishes for a better day. A better day where possibly life has gotten better.
Away from the cliff she draws, backwards towards the safety of trees. Only to hide again. Just until the next time.
You told me to go away, I walked away without a fight. You didn’t expect that, you came crawling back begging for me to be by your side. And I am so damn sick and tired of being part of your pathetic mind games.
So get out of my head, get out of my life. Get out of my way, and stop causing me strife. You’ve won, don’t you see that? Can’t you see that? Your silly little games are no longer fun, not for me, not in the long run.
Why have you returned? Why did you return? Have you grown bored, yet again? Am I just a round about for when no one is around? Am I a secret, a toy you can toss about? I am so damn tired of being strung out.
You played me like a fool, made me believe words of the wise. Why couldn’t I see what you had been doing, when you hit me each and every time? Your dagger carved wounds that still bleed to this day, but words slashed pain that has never gone away.
Do you feel satisfied when seeing you’ve torn me down? Do you feel satisfied when seeing the damage you’ve caused?
Why do you stay? To watch your prey? I’m no longer a victim, you’ve twisted my heart, and now we’re through. Can’t you see what you’ve done?
Two traditions in one, both my favorite. The former of which I spoke is remotely anyways. NaNoWriMo Eve, how could it already be this day? Happy Halloween, the holiday of dressing up, scaring one another until you make the other wee in their under garments, and the old-fashioned tradition of trick-or-treat. I have a kid, trick-or-treat is the main goal for tonight. But I’m more of the scaring type (not that I’ll do it to my kiddo). I love to be frightened. Horror movies are my go-to. I love dressing up as well and pretending to be something or someone I am not. I’m not big on the candy, but it gets old after a while anyways and I mean figuratively, though literally does stand with that statement.
Halloween is my favorite holiday, has been since I was a kid. I suppose its why I’m so good coming up with messed up ideas when it comes to my writing. I can keep to a story that is full of blood and gore and literal heart ripping scenes. But when it comes to romance and gooey mush? I’m a mess and instant Writer’s Block comes over me. I’m not opposed to reading or writing romance, it’s just not forte.
But I’m not here to speak Halloween. Although I could, and I could do it for several hours. All day if I really wanted to. As I said, Halloween is my favorite holiday and I could talk about it for days on end. But I’m not going to talk Halloween today (no matter how badly I kind of want to at this point), I’m going to talk this new holiday: NaNoWriMo Eve.
If you aren’t a big-time writer or if you are and just don’t pay attention to all that has to come with writing, you probably don’t even know what I’m talking about. Ignore me for this if you choose to, but my passion and life is writing. Of course, my son comes first and above it all, but right behind my son is my writing. I have written since the age of 4 and ask my Mama, I taught myself to write. I wrote even one sentence stories when I learned how to write, I’m destined to write. I’ve always wrote. It’s in my blood, it’s second nature to me like breathing is. It’s essential that I write, because if I don’t, I don’t really know how life would be like. There are times when I’ve had writer’s block for months on end, those times are blurry to me. I know I went through the motions of life during those periods, but exactly what I had done I don’t really remember. So back up to NaNoWriMo Eve. NaNoWriMo, known as National November Writing Month. 30 days, nonstop writing, and 50,000-word count goal. You write the entire month and make 50,000 words (or more, but the goal is 50k). Most people usually start a brand-new story, some, like myself, continue a story and hope to finish it. Am I going to finish mine? Oh no, I’m not. Will I get pretty close to doing so? I really hope so.
My story I will be working on is named Generation Freaks. I’ve posted about it before, when I first started this blog. I was going to do NaNoWriMo then as well. I didn’t. That was my first year and instantly, I had Writer’s Block. I had hyped myself up, didn’t take the time prep, and tried to dive right on end with nothing to go by. I basically screwed myself over then. Last year was my second year trying to do it. I wanted to work on my Mermaid story. While I didn’t get Writer’s Block, I instead had a different problem. I get a lot of ideas and I used to run with them. If I had a new story idea, I started it. I wrote, and I wrote so many stories, it’s always been a struggle to finish just one. That was my issue last year, I couldn’t stick to my one story like I desperately wanted to. I did make the word count, which I was semi-proud of. Semi-proud, because I was all over the place. I wrote 50,000 words and only two chapters of my story I was trying to work on. Which was less 5,000 words. The rest accumulated to multiple different stories. 3 long stories that are still in the process of being written (and even stopped where I ended them at the end of November last year) and several short stories. My mind works wonders, beautiful creations that I crave to put into story form and show who wants to read them. But it’s a curse. A blessing and a curse of itself. It sucks.
I have all these ideas and can’t keep to one story. It screwed me over at NaNoWriMo last year. I wasn’t going to let that happen this year. I want to accomplish NaNoWriMo properly. So, I’m going to and I’ve been prepping for months.
I decided for New Year’s, that my resolution was going to be a simple and yet, the most difficult one I could ever accomplish: I was going to focus on one story and one story alone. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever tried to do. I’ve been writing for 18 years (and remember, I started writing when I was 4), and I have always just let my ideas take over. I knew to succeed for personal growth, I couldn’t do that this year. So, with my New Year’s resolution in mind, I ignored it. For the first couple months, I added to my stories like I usually did. And I found myself entirely swamped. I don’t know what it is or why it happened and why it’s happening still, but I’ve been getting too tired to deal with all these ideas. I feel… how do I put it? I feel trapped inside my own mind sometimes. It is not a fun feeling, it is the worst to know that I have to work for an hour a day to clear my head of all ideas to keep to something simple. To keep in reality, because if I let my mind wander, I wander. I’ve found myself missing entire conversations, landing in places I didn’t even realize I had gone to when in these states. It used to be such a small thing, I used to be able to multitask and stick to reality and still “daydream”. Now though? It’s hard and I have to force myself to pay attention or lose all ability to do so. And that’s what sucks. So, around the beginning of summer, I took the initiative to finally start my New Year’s resolution. I made a list of all my stories and picked one to work on. The stories that I so badly want to write were set aside for “reward stories” and the rest were put on the other side of the list. They even out and it works this way: I finish a “general story” and then I write a “reward story” as, well, a reward for myself. Then I write that story and go back to a “general story”, and so on. It’s easier said than done though. Sticking to one solid story is not easy. My mind runs, it creates things, and makes it hard to stick to one thing. But determination pushed me forward. It’s been the worst time ever trying to keep to one story, because I want to write so much others.
So, I compromised with myself. I know how that sounds, you’re probably laughing because I came to a deal with myself. But it was better than suffering with my own mind and slowly going crazy. Because trust me, having all these ideas will drive anyone crazy. How did I compromise? Simple. I still write, a lot. But, I stay to one story. And I write my Poetry and roleplay. Roleplay helps a lot, I get to put my ideas into simple stories that are no pressure given. I get to write with my friends and not be stressed with anything. And poetry helps my emotions get out in words that I can connect. They help, a lot. And I get to stick to one story at the same time. I even have a writing schedule to give myself some time focusing on my poetry. I do roleplay as I please, to help relax, and the works. So, it all helps, it really does.
I’m ready for this year now. For five months now, I have stuck to one story and I have never been prouder of myself. I have, for the first time in my life, accomplished a New Year’s Resolution. Now, I go for the bigger goal of writing 50k words starting tomorrow (November 1). I’m excited and very much nervous to do so. I’m excited to get my story pushed forward and I’m nervous if I’m going to be able to do it. I want to do this, I need to do this for myself, but there are times I do doubt my ability to do so. I’m ready to make my goal, but it’s still hard to just keep my mindset on the fact I will make it. Failing two years in a row makes me more determined to accomplish it. NaNoWriMo is for self-accomplishment for writer’s. And I want to feel that self-accomplishment. I want to finally finish a story, to make it a novel. It’s just barely in the novella range. I want this, more than anyone can realize.
Well, Happy Halloween everyone. And for those of you who are also joining NaNoWriMo, I wish you the best of luck! Happy NaNoWriMo Eve!