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GoNiG cRAzY. into/part I (1 Viewer)

Kathryn Cull

Senior Member
It was the image of a black and white world that woke me to yet another day of a dismal outlook. I woke up each morning, forcedly swallowed my pills each day, and slept each night. In-between the lines of my life I sat; sat in the dark, crouched by ripped papers and mirrors with my hands covered in charcoal. I didn’t want to speak to anyone, I just did.
Love started me off on good thoughts sometimes, but then, slowly I would slip back into silence as I thought up goals I would never achieve.
I wanted to be something more than anything. But how could I be? I came from here.
She highlighted my thoughts; floating around with lovely smile and dreams of peace. Even the thought of her used to give me anxiety, but now she was one thing that inspired me.
My family’s happiness was the only other thing that gave me hope. But I still did the things I did knowing it would hurt them.
I was hopeless in my eyes.

:: Part I ::
The smile on my lips wasn’t fake; I was happy as I watched my hand stroke the paint brushes up and down the page in a flurry of colours. I couldn’t even mind the world now.
My wrist burned as I reached for a piece of charcoal, my hand giving out suddenly and recoiling back to my body. I stared down at my wrist in shock and daze. There was a black star; a thin black star, like a tattoo in the inside of my wrist, just below my hand.
I didn’t know what it was. And it didn’t concern me, for reasons I didn’t comprehend.
It was a world full of tricks and turns, we lived in.
I ripped off the older piece of painting in progress and began to sketch the image of my star onto a fresh page. I began to realize that this star was unlike the typical shape I had usually drawn for a star. In fact, this star was sharper and had seven points.
‘Seven points’ I whispered somewhere below my voice as I tacked the drawing above my table.
I sighed heavily, the sound echoing in my black room. I searched around in the dim lighting for the picture that continually restored some amount hope in me. It wasn’t a really elaborate drawing, like many of my other ones, but it was a picture from her. It reflected some of how she was in real life, which, I suppose is why I loved it.
My eyes fell upon a singular paper, slightly tattered with fold lines and tacked amongst what must have been hundreds of other black and white drawings. A tingling sensation burst in my stomach and a shot of adrenalin formed my lips into a faint smile. It was a drawing of little creatures, and smudged charcoal lines. I barely understood it.
I stood and placed my hand over the drawing on the wall, my eyes closing. My breath rasped in my chest and heart skipped slightly. What I would give to actually have her in my arms, without the worry of judgment or having to cram ourselves into a little space as if attempting at hiding our shame (which we didn’t have).
I was beginning to feel the warm tears pour down my cheeks, one after another. I realized then, after a few moments that the crying was not going to stop this time. Eyeliner, glitter and long dramatically smudged lines covered my face like a burning mask.
My eyes flared open and my hand slid off the wall of drawings as I collapsed to the ground with a thud. My fists where balled up on my lap as I convulsed and coughed with tears and anger.
Sometimes, in this reality, the most painful wounds where those of the heart.
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Senior Member
Hi there, How goes it? :) anyways the descriptions were wonderful towards the end, and although i understood the story just fine, it might be easier to read if you put it in paragraphs. unless thats what you were going for with the story. and although this doesnt pertain to the story, it isnt necessary to title your threads like that. your welcome to do what you want with them, but chances are you will be taken more seriously as a writer if you add proper capitalization and labels. other then that, good job:) feel free to post more, or critique my work in return.:)


Senior Member
Hi Kathryn -
I like your story so far, assuming it's incomplete. I like your abstract form and style, mentioning "her" and "she" without saying who. Throughout the story I actually thought you were describing a woman who lost a daughter or sister, but by the end it seemed you were talking about a lesbian affair. I can't wait to read the rest, are you going to post more? The only thing I wanted to point out was that sometimes your thoughts seem a little discordant. For instance, you say,
I didn’t know what it was. And it didn’t concern me, for reasons I didn’t comprehend.
but we go on to find out that it concerns the main character enough to draw it, reflect on its seven points and it sends her into a nostalgic fit of sadness and rage. All of the thoughts should be leading directly to whatever it is that's gone wrong in this woman's life to put her where she is. Just a thought to contemplate. Thanks for the good read!

Kathryn Cull

Senior Member
Yes! yes! Yes! Thank you for your review! and! yes! haha again - YES! It should lead up to it and it will! Read part II

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