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...departed sometime in the autumn...
should you ever need a friend, find me on Wattpad under the same username or at my Instagram: @almostttaesthetic

all my love, and then some more,

Message to Readers

thank you for reading! i hope it pulled you in and filled you with intrigue :)

any feedback/suggestions would be lovely!

have a wondrous day <3


September 4, 2020

1. A woman sauntered down the busy streets of Vancouver in nothing but a robe and pink stilettos. Her right-hand wrung the neck of a bottle hidden in a brown paper bag as she let the other hand trail lazily along the walls of the buildings she walked by. 

2. Diamond's legs shook as she walked down the street. She could barely see, but she kept on going, holding a hand out to touch the buildings she passed. The rough texture of brick and concrete grounded her; it ensured that she wouldn't just float into the air, and fly away with the next sip of liquor that she would down in just a few more seconds.

3. Her mind was fuzzy and her heels ached. There was also something sharp poking the littlest toe on her right foot. She shrugged all that off, though, making her way back home after the longest night of her life. Her eyes were bleary with sleep and her head would fall as she fell asleep standing up before jerking up again as she woke up. She'd then take another sip of the disgusting liquid hidden by a paper bag to try and keep her eyes open. The edible poison would burn her insides, but at least her eyes wouldn't close for longer periods of time. At least she wouldn't see them.

4. Last night, every time I tried to close my eyes, Tom's beautiful, dangerous eyes would burn green behind my eyelids. I don't get it. Green means go. Tom means no. It's confusing and sad and hard - so hard - to accept. Suffice to say, I didn't get much sleep last night.

Now I'm walking. I reason that I can't fall asleep standing - not for long anyway. There are tears in my eyes from how much it burns to keep them open, but I can't close them. I can't. I make sure that one of my hands stays in reach of the buildings so that I don't find myself in the middle of the street. I have no intention of becoming a sloppy mess of roadkill.

It takes all my strength to hold on to the bottle in my hands. It's the other thing keeping me awake; I can't lose it. I sip and sip and sip until I'm no longer walking and sipping - I'm spinning. So I spin and I spin and I spin until all that's there is darkness.

this is just a little something about a character that I've been trying to write about. i hope i was able to do this correctly and explain more of the story as the psychic distance shrinks :)


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  • September 4, 2020 - 7:59pm (Now Viewing)

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  • Anne Blackwood

    This is quite moving. Well done. Also, "holding a hand out to touch the buildings she passed. The rough texture of brick and concrete grounded her" I do that too sometimes (for mostly the same reason)!

    4 months ago
  • Emi (Revival Year #NEWYEAR)

    This is so well-written! It's also so pitiable; I really have sympathy for alcoholics now; good work making such a sympathetic character.

    4 months ago
  • ek503

    this really shrunk that psychic distance so fluidly! really interesting to read! lovely piece :)

    5 months ago