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Haunting Holiday
Contributed by
darkplaidbabe
on
Wednesday, 29th September 2004 @ 02:45:17 PM in AEST
Topic:
oops
|
Dimly lit room, like a festive holding cell.
Awkwardly brought together by tradition, nothing more.
One is missing, a storybook character, life size.
A damsel in distress, lost soul, a lonely beauty.
The room creaks in an effort to bring the maddening quiet to a pause.
The tree is lit.
Bulbs catch fire in vibrant blues and greens, purples and reds.
Memories hang from the branches, little hand made pipe cleaner Santas and presents in shiny, tin foil wrapping, placed by inexperienced hands.
Still an ugly silence dwells there, feeding off of the loneliness.
You can still see the impressions where, only moments ago, we were sitting on that very couch.
Five phantoms replace us to try and make it seem real again, but in vain.
Press rewind, flashback sequence so you can see.
There we are, waiting patiently.
Waiting for the beauty queens entrance, every second longer than the last.
Why hasnt she come?
Must have missed her cue.
He goes to check.
Death is tiptoeing through the air, trying to go unnoticed, but we can all feel it.
My mind is exploding, a great fiery mess of ideas, questions, fears.
My kneecaps, like great fallen skyscrapers, come crashing in levels to the floor and a deafening shriek escapes my lips.
Breaths are sipped slowly, cautiously, in case of disease.
But all of this happens inside my imagination, as I watch the words drip from his mouth like the blood on his hands.
Dripping, seeping, like a faucet.
He speaks in a different language. I can understand, but barely..
She has done something bad with a pink razor, something she wasnt allowed to do.
She was selfish and tried to run away, she didnt want to take care of us anymore.
So now she is sleeping. There, in that white room.
They feed her life back through tubes and needles. They give her injectoins of false hope and she has that new life smell.
Things will be different now, father says.
So we pretend.
We laugh and smile and make believe that were all just the way we used to be.
But I know better.
I know things will never be the same.
I know this, and I cant help but feel that the colors of the world arent as bright as they were before.
And, for some sad reason, I only want to cry when I read the sign that says Merry Christmas.
Copyright ©
darkplaidbabe
... [
2004-09-29 14:45:17]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Haunting Holiday
(User Rating: 1 )
by Essentially9 on
Wednesday, 29th September 2004 @ 09:40:40 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
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| emotional write. we must let others live how they want though, no matter what in the end. |
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Re: Haunting Holiday
(User Rating: 1 )
by ArdRi79 on
Thursday, 30th September 2004 @ 12:00:15 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
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| raw with emotion and a beautifull if scarringly harsh write even if its just from the simple expression of the soul, you conveyed the hollowness of the celbration in your words very clearly and even though im shocked I enjoyed reading it, thanks for sharing |
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