A New Life

[Dr. Strange]

Lovely. More people to enjoy it! ^^

Falling Asleep

 January 30th, 2004;
     'What a way to end the first month of the year...' She thought, eyes narrowed. Her straight brown hair fell limply into her face as she sat on the floor of the Saint Mary Hospital, waiting on her appointment. She held a book to read in one hand and alternated between tapping her kneecap and dragging her nails from hip to knee, nervous and impatient. A pretty brunette with sea-green eyes in green scrubs came out and called Samantha inside. Her mother followed along silently, her hand on Sam's shoulder.


Remnants of the Past

     Green eyes sparkling with pent-up anger and fear, a motion to harm and they blink, tears almost spilling. As the needle drives deeper, the razor cuts further and the anger boils over. She stares at the wound, giggling insanely. The doctor paused, needle poised, a little taken aback. When she quieted, he continued, his eyes betraying his concern about her reaction. Her fingers clenched then relaxed, the little bit of pain fading to the familiar numbing sensation as the silver end holding the black thread pierced her skin a few more times. Smirking wryly, Sam murmured softly a poem she'd written a few days before, eyes once again brimming with tears. The thread pulled tight once more then released, the last stitch closing the hole in her right cheek.

       Steeling herself vehemently, the, five foot three, female fifteen year old watched Dr. Agha stitch her skin together then leave. She stared at the blood dripping lazily off her arm and she felt something in her awaken; a part of her she never knew she possessed. Samantha drew her breath in between grinding teeth and glared at the door Dr. Agha disappeared through; her fingers clenched so tight, the nails drew crimson half-moons in her palms. Uttering a barely audible curse, she slid off the plastic-covered bed and out the same door. Her boots made soft thuds on the ugly tan carpet as she made her way the six or so feet to the outside door, walking out. A tingling set in as the analgesic was already wearing off. All things considered, her body broke it down faster than most.

       When she could feel the cut with all the force of a punch in the stomach, Samantha inhaled sharply, a hiss coming from between her clenched teeth as she doubled over in pain. She continued, her footsteps slow from remnants of pain. She adjusted her bag and sat in her mother’s Chevy Venture, waiting for work to be over. Her mother appeared half an hour after she’d closed the door, walking to the van and getting in silently. She glanced at her daughter’s pursed lips, a concerned expression on her face. After a few seconds, Sam turned to her mother and raised a brow. Her mother wordlessly started the car and left the hospital’s back entrance, eyes focused on the road as she drove.

      Arriving home, they separated, Samantha disappearing into her room with the music turned up so she could cry alone and her mother into the kitchen to cook dinner. Feeling the wound rip open because the anesthetics were wearing off, she struggled to keep herself from ripping the bandage off and clawing at the sore. Her thoughts were feral, full of simple reactions; pain, hatred, anger, fear; thrown into a mixture of images that made her regret eating a few hours before. She lay on her bed, tears falling swiftly and silently, angry at herself for falling apart after this; her twenty-eighth time. As she continued to pour her feelings into her pillow, she felt her teddy bear beside her and she held him close; rocking back and forth.

      When she felt a little better the next morning, she uncurled, walking into the bathroom adjacent to her room. Looking at herself in the mirror, Sam resisted the urge to slam her fist into it and shatter the image. The monster that stared back at her had cold green eyes, colorless cheeks, haunted lines under her eyes and a spider implanted in her face. A feeling of dread clawed its way into her, making her recall the fragility of other girls her age. Snickering at the notion of being weak and grimacing at the way it looked in the reflective glass, she turned the bathroom light off, holing up in her room once more to dress herself. A purple marble bear about six or seven inches high and five inches across from finger to finger lay on her pillow, a pink heart stitched into the left side of its chest. She picked it up and smiled, hugging him close when she’d dressed.

     Sam felt barren and knew she would only have a little while before the cold exterior sank into her interior. Snorting in frustration, she grabbed her over-the-shoulder book bag off the pale blue carpet of her bedroom and cautiously proceeded downstairs; struggling to control herself. The impulse to race outside and hide in the car was so strong; she had to punch herself in the leg several times to wrestle it under control. Adjusting the strap, she walked to the end of the driveway and watched the cars zip past on Dorsett Shoals; waiting for the bus. Her face itched, throbbing; something akin to frantic drums.

     As the bus came, she remembered something someone had told her and she smirked; eyes glistening mysteriously. Getting on, Samantha sat in the second seat from the front and settled into the seat boredly. The feeling of being alone haunted her; clouding the senses she relied on. Her fingers clenched painfully, digging into the wounds in her palms. More and more, the feelings she did her best to hide boiled to the surface; bleeding into her expressions as she fought to control them. A good five minutes passed before she finally subdued them and adopted her favorite look, cold and uncaring.

     When she could no longer fight the impulses, Sam turned her head towards the aisle to find a boy sitting next to her. Smiling at her, he played with the hem of her shirt innocently. She smiled back, feeling the urges subside into passiveness. As more of what he was doing drifted to her, Samantha felt a weird sensation start where his hand was and travel throughout her body; stopping in her chest. He smirked and murmured something she didn't catch. Leaning forward, she raised a brow.

          "What was that?"

          "You're so pretty." He repeated.

     Sam slumped back in the seat, staring at the leather in front of her; shell-shocked. No one had ever found her beautiful with all her scars or without them, for that matter; this had to be a joke. She decided on a flimsy notion and went with it; reaching her hand out and taking his. Placing it on her cheek, she let him feel the stitches and became more shocked as he stroked the spot with a gentle smile. She moved the warm black sleeve of her Harley hoodie and showed him the band-aid covering her other set of stitches. He smiled with wonder and touched the cloth bandage gingerly. Samantha stared at him, completely stunned. His reaction, and others like it, scared her to no end.

        He scooted closer and she felt a flicker of warmth that faded quickly with a twist of familiar tightening in her chest. Fear rooted her to the seat. Unwilling as she was to touch him, the urge to find out more about why he’d reacted that way forced her to put her hand on his arm. She walked her hand up his shoulder and to his lips, tracing them, down his chest and to his waist. He moved his hand to rest it on her shoulder and pulled her close, seeming to nuzzle her. She purred accidentally and stopped when he chuckled lightly.

       Cautiously, she looked him in the eyes, almost drowning in the teal that danced like water in the irises and tilted her head. His mouth quirked and the bus lurched; another student had gotten on and was now sitting two seats back. Shivering; she turned away and settled in the seat, purring softly as her hair fell into her face. He settled in beside her; arm still wrapped around her shoulders. Looking out the window, she drunkenly registered the passing of life on the road; her head swimming.

      When the bus stopped and the school came into view, she fidgeted; slightly uncomfortable with his position to hers. She longed to go home and crawl into bed with all the confusing emotions warring inside her; but she couldn't and she knew it. Allowing him to softly say good-bye and stroke her cheek one last time, she waited until the last person got off; leaping off the stairs and deigning to ignore him on her way to class.

      Knowing what lay ahead of her, Samantha heaved a sigh and opened the door to Alexander, growling in frustration at her idiocy for leaving her homework on her desk. Cursing softly, she slipped into homeroom and waited for their schedules to be handed out. A feeling of being sick, the thought of liking someone; and she put her burning forehead on the cold desk, willing it all to go away. Her thoughts still raced after what had happened earlier. She had the feeling that it wouldn’t be the last time she saw him….

      Receiving the schedules was easy, finding the classes was something else. Her feet hurt and she was loaded up with so much homework, Sam thought she was going to explode. Getting on the bus, she glared at the couple in her seat and sat behind them; pulling out her mp3. Turning on Three Days Grace and adjusting the volume so everything else melted away, she failed to notice him get on. He purposely sat beside her again and smiled at her. Her eyes were closed as she listened, oblivious.

     When he cleared his throat, she continued to ignore him unintentionally. Now, pulling out her earphones was murder and he had no idea (would not have known this). He reached over and plucked one out, sliding it into his ear to hear what she heard. Samantha turned her head, adopting the coldest, meanest look on her face and directing it at him. He quelled under her gaze and backed off, giving the earphone back to her.

     Replacing it, she adjusted her position by sliding her knees half-way up the seat in front of her; a tear streaking down her face. Her eyes betrayed everything she hid and she knew. Thus she hid her face from view of others. Closing them, she breathed in and out; struggling to calm herself before her resolve broke. Growling the worst curses imaginable under her breath; she put her black hood up and turned away from the keen scent of humans. Her resolve was almost broken when the bus lurched again to stop in front of her driveway.

     Slightly jarred, she stood up and looked at the boy with a raised brow. He blushed and sheepishly let her out. Huffing in annoyance, Samantha walked off the bus and checked the mail; disappearing into the house after walking down her long driveway when there was none. Her eyes were a brilliant green struck through with blue as she went upstairs after leaving her black book bag on the couch in the living room. Feeling light-headed, she collapsed on her bed and laughed manically at the absurdness of her situation.

     After several minutes of this, she regained her composure and sat up; legs dangling off the edge. The door opened downstairs and her mother walked in. Getting up, Sam walked to her desk; snatching her homework off the surface. Seating herself, she powered up her computer; checking her e-mails and replying to a few posts on her favorite role play website. Moving around in the seat and checking the clock, 18:50pm, she felt she was being watched and turned around; cursing at her brother.

     He squealed with laughter, running out of her room and into the safety of his own. Snarling, she returned to her previous activities; pondering the significance of the boy's arrival in her life. She smirked as an idea dawned on her and she opened up word, typing swiftly. When she was satisfied of its length, for the time being; she closed the program, signing off the computer for the day. Lying on her bed, she pulled her current favorite, Eldest to her and opened it up; reading and falling into the world of Eragon and Saphira.

     When a crash downstairs failed to get her attention, her mother’s cursing did. She raced downstairs barefoot and bumped into the door, almost sliding into the kitchen. Samantha looked too concerned for normal. Her mother stood in front of the island, glass shattered all around her. The sound of squeaking footsteps signaled her father walking in from the rain.

          "Hey dad, mom dropped something..." She muttered, looking for a safe way to access her mother and make sure she was okay.

     As she did, her little brother came streaking downstairs and rammed into her. Sam snarled and threw him a dirty look. He backed off, making weak excuses to disappear. When he had, she focused on cleaning the glass up, ignoring the crunching her feet made as she stepped on or near the glass to sweep it up with a broom and dustpan. Her hands itching, she put the brush and dustpan away.

     Like a ghost, she disappeared from the kitchen, silently climbing the stairs to appear back in her bedroom. The transfer to her sanctuary left her weak. Stumbling a little, she retired to her bed, burying her face in her pillow as her thoughts muddied her surroundings. Many dreams took over as she lay there, fully awake.  They dropped her into a pit of nonsense, endlessly twisting and turning this way then that. Her fingers clenched the pillow tightly while her teeth gnashed against the pillowcase.

     Tears of anger and resentment scorched her cheeks as she pulled her face away, her eyes turning a blazing emerald green. Thoughts muddied by indecision and uncertainty branded circles in her head, making it that much harder to concentrate as she dragged her binder out of her backpack. Opening it tiredly, she popped out her biology homework and began to scribble the day’s notes inside. When she finished, she put it back in, closed the binder, and listened to her parents fight with her little brother downstairs. Waiting for one to come storming up the stairs and rage at her, she sighed to herself and put the binder back, pacing her floor.

     And thus my dreams shatter against the barren concrete wall of my parents' words. She thought, eyes twitching back and forth as she struggled to keep them open.

     Glancing at her clock, she felt oddly unsurprised. It was only eight thirty at night, after all. Sighing with defeat, she undressed. Her body trembled at the cold as she quickly donned her bathrobe and scrambled to get in the shower. Peeling it from her skin, she stepped in and let the water race down her cold flesh. The regret she’d poured into herself, filling to the brim, melted away as the water gradually went cold. When she could no longer stand the frigid river, she shut off the flow and slid the curtains back, humming.

     A whistle and some slow, rhythmic music slithered up the stairs, under the door, then into her ears, pleasantly lifting most of her worries like nothing else could. Samantha smiled wistfully, singing softly the words to a poem she’d read a year ago. Finer things in life are hard to come by, Samantha dear. She thought with a chuckle. And with that, the curtain fell, consuming the stage as a hungry cannibal would his dinner guests. Her eyes glittered with profound mirth, the smile on her face so like a temptress…

           “The name of a person says a little bit about them: their worth, their merit, their character. For example,” Sam pulled out a piece of chalk and wrote the name Artemas on the chalkboard; “Artemas means Hunter. A child named Artemas could be strong, loyal, and self-sufficient but she could also be very stubborn and self-pitying.” Her eyes lighted on one of her classmates and she smirked. “On the other hand, a name like Alex might make the holder a thief, a liar with no honor and no integrity, or a self-respecting law-abider with a certain taste for the helpless. It all depends, really.” She walked back to her seat and slumped over in the cold, plastic chair.

         “What does names have to do with this?” Some smart-ass asked, jeering at her.

     She growled under her breath, standing once more. Her eyes lighted on the teenager, narrowing impossibly and turning an evil, stare-into-your-soul reddish gold. From the back came some gasps and a few whimpers. Pulling her lips back, she smiled unpleasantly. Her fingers clenched in a strain for control and she let her lips drop, forcing herself to breath in and out slowly.

     Now that she’d calmed down, her eyes returned to normal and Samantha sat once more. The things I sometime endure for my random smart moments… She thought with an exhausted sigh. Her fingers clenched painfully as the sores she hid seemed to rip open.

     No blood poured out, no liquid(s) at all slid down her arm but she had the keen feeling something had dripped off her arm. The sensation intensified then faded to nothing, the familiar nonchalance poking in. A twinge of guilt made her turn her head and she did her best to withhold the scream. That boy was in her class, sitting right next to her and he was staring RIGHT AT HER! Sam bit her lip. He continued to stare and she could no longer take it.

   â€œWHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT?!” She demanded loudly, eyes narrowing and her face twisting into a hard countenance.

     Madame Beechy glared at her from her desk, shaking her head. Sam blushed madly, sliding further into her seat, trying to melt into the floor. A snicker from her right forced her to sit up and ignore the laughs, they wouldn’t get the best of her; no way, no how. Straightening her back and leveling her head, Samantha stood up just as the bell rang. Her fingers clenched so hard she felt her blood boil, Sam turned to leave and ran into him as she was trying to get to the door. Snarling nastily, she raised her hand to slap him, thought better of it and slumped back in the seat.

     As he left, she closed the door and spoke softly to her French 1 teacher;

          "Madame Beechy? Can you please help me? I'm worried about my grades...."

          "Oui.... Why your grades? They're excellent as far as I can see. What's wrong Jeanne-Laure?"

          "Madame, I can't get that boy to leave me alone... I noticed him yesterday and he's been bothering me since.... Please can you help me?"

      Beechy sighed, her light brown eyes full of relief. She smiled gently. "He likes you, Jeanne-Laure. I can't help much there..."

[Soryu/Miayuki Isumi]

Interesting tale hun you continue to amaze... =D

[Dr. Strange]

Awe, you're too sweet. I am not as good as you claim, love. >_<

o,0

[Soryu/Miayuki Isumi]

Well you have more ambition than I do now a days believe me I am focusing on my art more now so yeah.

[Dr. Strange]

lol I'm glad you take an interest in my writing. (I'd call it more often than not remblings but whichever you prefer. 6_6)

[flames]

Woah...just woah...
I knew that you were going to take this piece far and I anticipated briliance, but this totally shatters my expectations...It's just...so dark, heartwrenching, hauntingly beautiful and really struck some chords in me...

[Dr. Strange]

Um.... thanks I guess. I'm kind of frightened by that and happy at the same time....


And as a side note, I could care less what other people have to say or feel about my past. I am who I am and I am proud to be what I am. Writing this piece has helped me organize and come to reality with a lot of things I refused to see when I was younger. This story, if you can call it that, is all true and it's slightly less morbid. I would prefer it stayed and if there is any problems, please notify me of them.

Again, it does little to my self esteem if someone discounts this entire thing as untrue or too horrid to be true. It is something I have written from the heart and that is all it is.


wow.... 19 paragraphs and few words spoken between the two;.. I have got to work on that. <._.>
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[scarypuppy]

Very Good!

I loved following the characters as if I was sitting on their shoulder or watching them from a comfortable distance.

More a Spectre than a Spectator.

Could use some tweaking in a few fields but overall well done.

I Commend you sir!

hahaha, jk.

[Dr. Strange]

Ha ha ha. Well, where should the tweaking take place? I'm still a little new to this and this one is my best so far. I'm quite proud of myself. ^^

[flames]

A very interesting update as we learn more of what sadly appears to be the daily routine...:'(

[Dr. Strange]

Uhm....thanks, I guess.... I'll edit the earlier post soon. (When I can finish without my head crashing)



EDITED

[flames]

Very interesting addition in a number of ways, it creates a nice change of atmosphere whilst maintaining an air of mystery with countless questions to be asked. Nice

[Dr. Strange]

<<Thursday, February 12, 2009, at 00:27:57>>
Thank you Flames. ^^ All the new stuff has been added to the first post, enjoy and leave a comment or two, eh?
<<Tuesday, February 24, 2009 at 22:40:55 by: THE King of the Shattered>>

A new addition has been added. I apologize for the short update. I am struggling to get some of my other numerous things done....Excuse my absence.

[Dr. Strange]

Starting tomorrow, I will post longer updates and the second addition will, with some good ol' writer's magic, be up either tomorrow or Wednesday. I can't guarantee I'll be able to check back everyday or post everything that I've woven into the tale, but I CAN promise I'll be able to put up enough to keep ya hangin' there. I hope you've enjoyed the twisted tale I've begun thus far, that you continue to check back for updates and to be struck by my incredible talents : ). I am proud of my blossoming abilities, and also of the attention I receive.

Thank you to all of my readers and praisers,
~~THE King of the Shattered~~

[flames]

That's good to know.