The Mok Spot

This was a prompt on Xanga that I already answered, but looking back, I didn't write it as I really see myself in 10 years. (Mainly because now I'm pms'ing and am a Negative Nancy)

It rained last night. The entire night. I know it was the entire night because I was up. My good friend insomnia struck yet again. For a while I laid on my side, listening to the rain. It sounded like two parts anguish and one part water as it crashed against my window. I tried to determine whether or not the drops were pings or binks, but that just made my brain tired.

I rolled over on my back, my hand running over the other side of the bed. Empty. Always empty. I almost felt a pang of hurt that nobody was laying next to me, then I realized people only felt that when people left. Not when people were never there. I sighed and rolled on to my stomach, sliding my hand under the sheet. It was cold. As I watched the rain I imagined it was cold too.

I rolled back over and stared at the clock. 2:48am. I closed my eyes and opened them again. 2:48am. I got out of bed with a groan, pacing around my apartment. A flash of lightning light up everything so I could see clearly. The picture with my goddaughter and I at Six Flags. Her mother's wedding when I was a bridesmaid above it. Then my law school graduation with my parents.

I stared at all my things. Stuff. Leather couches. Wood paneling. Soft carpet. Granite countertops. Stainless steel appliances. Just stuff. I opened the fridge and let the cool breeze hit my skin. I got a tall glass of wine and walked over to my fish tank. I turned it on and watched them swim around excitedly.

I took a sip of my wine and ambled over to the window. By this point the rain had let up some and instead of pounding against the earth, they just dropped like jewels. I smiled to myself because in spite of it all I was happy. I was glad in that moment because that moment is my life.

I wrote this in tenth grade and thought I was a fucking genius for it. I'm typing it here so I can finally throw this paper away.

I kept getting wetter and wetter. Then i started shivering like a bastard. I swear I couldn't feel it though. Then a funny thing happened. I saw Allie on the carrousel. He was just standing there; his hair more red then I remember. He was standing real close to Phoebe, like he was protecting her or something. It made me wanna cry, and I almost did too. Phoebe came running up to me and dragged me to the carrousel. All the mothers and kids and stuff started staring at us. At me. Their mouths were open all wide and all. I didn't care though.

The rain let up and old Phoebe and I walked around for a while. She bout that "Little Shirley beans" record again. She was so antsy. Kids drive me crazy. They get all antsy and jittery about stuff. I swear she couldn't wait to listen to that damn record.

I don't really remember what happened the rest of that day, or the other days for that matter. I used some more of Phoebe's dough and stayed at this crumby hotel, The Griffdale. Everyitme I went to sleep I had nightmares about that night with Mr. Antolini. I'd wake up all sweaty, and then I couldn't go back to sleep. It scared the hell out of me, it really did. I remembered I read this book by this guy, Jeff Bumsquaw. It's about this guy, Cole, who gets moletsted or something. He becomes a flit, and all, and starts whackin' off girls. The bastard just starts killing people, and they're all girls. It scared the hell out of me. I got all depressed. I thought I was a goddamn flit or somethin. Everytime I passed a girl I'd think I was about to attack her or something. I kept picturing myself doing something bad to Phoebe. I got real depressed and all.

Finally I went home, old Phoebe was acting all nonchalant and my mom was so damn nervous. My dad had business in Vermont, so he wasn't around. Just as well. Everything was going fine until I did soemthing really crazy. I locked myself in my room and I'm not talkng about like an hour or something. I stayed in my room for a whole goddamn day. I don't know why I did. I mean I didn't eat, or slelep, or even piss. All I did was, I talked to Allie. I don't even know what we talked about.

Then my parents send me to this nut house. It's full of goddamn psychos. Normally, they probably would have been perverts, but now the bastards are so drugged up they probably don't know their ass from their elbow. I feel sorry for them. I really do. I hate being here with all the wackos.