I’ve taken a look through my old writings and found this particular segment from my junior year of high school.  (As usual, it’s dark and depressing, haha.) And of course, I’ve done some editing to the original writing to reflect my personal changes and growth in writing.  I guess junior year was my writing prime time.

20 minutes.

He was beautiful.  His long, wavy hair curled around his face like a fallen angel’s.  With an otherworldly gleam, his dull eyes reflected the dim pallor.  It was beautiful.

15 minutes.

His lips parted slowly with each puff of smoke he took, each side bleeding.  His mouth was so dry that he could taste the unnatural bitterness of his own cheek, of his flesh.  He wanted to get up for water.  Please leave me alone today.

10 minutes.

Scarred like his arms, jail bars wove the confines across his mind.  The knife of regret hung close by, digging into his bruised, destroyed leg.  But the parlor’s dim light reflected upon it—always.

7 minutes.

An eye for an eye makes the whole world go blind.  An eye for an eye makes the whole world go blind.  But it hurts.  Oh, god… An eye for an eye makes the whole world go blind.  It hurts everywhere. Oh, god.

5 minutes.

He opened his backpack.  Stupid notecards.  “Fermentation is a chemical process in which microorganisms break sugars down into miniscule molecules for use in living systems.”  Stupid notecards. Then he closed it.  Please be dead.

3 minutes.

His back nestled into the comfort of the curtain rod and wooden frame.  Click! And his feet knocked right into place on the familiar cold floor.  I remember.

2 minutes.

Peacefully he lounged amidst the smoke puffs and whispers and daydreams.  Maybe I should move my pack away?

1 minute.

What a white ceiling!  Indeed.  So beautiful!  Of course.  It deserves a grin, like me!

30 seconds.

Why are my cheeks wet?

20 seconds.

So lovely!

10 seconds.

He smiles.  Missing teeth can be beautiful after all.

5 seconds.

Knock knock.  Clunk, clunk, clunk.  “Get over here.”

0 seconds.

Life is a beautiful thing.


~ Ruth



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