Image

RoselessThorns

United States

Hai
I've been writing for around three years as a hobbyist atm
Live in FL
I revolve around music
My goal in life is to help people get through any mental struggles. Feel free to talk if you want!

Message from Writer

I strive to help others conquer ther fears or adversities. Through this I try to use writing as an interpretation of others' fears as a memo that you are not alone.

The Subconscious Mind

November 6, 2015

    
“Sit down,” my mom said in a raspy voice. Pollen. It was everywhere, and it always made her wheeze. I slumped down on the couch, praying it wasn’t for the reasons I thought it’d be for. Kik, Snapchat, iFunny, Skype. The words floated around in my mind like clouds, but throbbed as if each time I thought of each app, it was like a dagger to the stomach, over and over and over…
    “Mrs. Huppert said that the extra credit--”
    “I know,” I said gravely. “Both her and Dad told me,” 
    “Do not interrupt,” she said pulling out her 6 inch cell phone. Slowly and passionately she read off the long conversation she and my teacher probably had this morning. All because of a B. My relief that she hadn’t found anything on my phone was drowned out by her scrutinization. 
    “We cannot accept a B, young lady,” my mother said formally. “We know you can do better. We as parents…”
    As parents you should accept I’m trying.
    “...want to help you succeed. At the same time, we do not want to overwhelm you, and Mrs. Huppert does not want that either,” she continued, softening her tone.
    You’re already overwhelming me with this lecture.
    “But to do that, your father and I believe…”
    Believe? Why not just say “We’re going to punish you for not reaching our parental standards”?
    “...that you should be more focused on your studies rather than texting, and talking, and ‘hangin’ out’, you get the point, don’t you?”
I wish I didn’t. I inwardly sighed. 
    My mother then began talking about how this would affect my life, and how success, if not done properly, can lead to disaster and ruin your life. This talk had happened so many times, I felt like screaming. 
    “I’m very disappointed in you, sweetie,” she continued after her college prep. speech. 
    Don’t call me “Sweetie” if you’re disappointed.
    “I just don’t understand it!” different tones began playing into her voice. “You always get A’s on homework, and participation…”
    A hinderance in her voice, expecting me to finish. I kept my mouth closed.
    “...and then I get to your tests.” she said. A long pause, probably expecting my opinion. She knew I wouldn’t open my mouth.
    Here it comes.
    “Homework: A. Participation: A. Test: B. Quiz: C Test: D. Honestly, what is up with this? We cannot accept failure like this!” dismay dripped from her voice like molasses; slow. 
    Failure.
    Her last words echoed dreadfully through my mind. I began to feel more and more pained about failing so many times, more depressed in my failed efforts to please them, more malaise in my own soul.
    “She wants an answer.” my dad demanded coldly. I just shrugged. I could feel my pulse rising to my throat.
    Idiot. Don’t just shrug or he’ll-
    “You’re such a smart girl, and so beautiful,” my mom complimented. I kept my stare forward, and blank.
    What does beauty have anything to do with my “failing”?
    “Which is why we know you can do so much better,” my dad said unhelpfully, again. 
    Pretty girls always fail. Maybe if you call me an ugly toad I’ll improve.
    “Like I said earlier, there will be restrictions to help you achieve your goal,” my mother said. Another long pause. 
    It’s not my goal anymore. I tensed, getting ready for whatever… whatever groundage they were about to appall onto me. It always felt like daggers as she spoke.
“From now on, you will not have your phone, and I will decide when you get it back.”
One dagger.
“You will only get online for textbooks, checking your grades, or anything else relating to scholarly topics only.”
Two.
    “We will be watching you very carefully this time, and you will not sneak anything in. No secret conversations with some public, dangerous chat.”
    Oh. Okay. There go my chances of conspiring with ISIS, I thought derisively. I almost instantly thought of Skype, and felt horrible. I’d have to figure out some way of telling him without them breathing on my back. He had to know. 
“The only time you are to leave your room is to use the restroom, or to get dinner.”
The fourth, and final dagger.
“So I’m grounded,” I said flatly.
“No. Groundage is unfair, and it is treacherous to treat children like that,” my dad said loftily. 
Hypocrisy.
“Go work on your homework,” my mother said after another additional pause. I got up and walked silently to the study, and had almost considered walking outside and never returning.  
    After blindly trying to do homework, I tossed my book into my bag and kicked the bag by the door. 
    Put it properly by the door, or you’ll forget it in the morning. Maybe you won’t…? Why get up? You’re so… comfortable… just get on YouTube and sleep this entire night away. How can you be so dumb to forget your bag?
    
    Sure enough, we ended up being thirty minutes late because halfway to school, I remembered my pathetic school bag sulking behind my door. My dad ended up complaining the rest of the road trip to and from school. He talked about the conversation we had last night, and not he’d thought I would have done better by remembering.
    Great job, you pathetic excuse for a living being.
    “...just don’t understand how you could do something like this the day after we try to talk to you about responsibility,” he said sighing.
    I would have had that talk whether it helped me or not. I thought ruefully. The rest of the trip consisted of reiterations from my dad while I stared at the car in front of us with a license plate that read “CATS RUL”. My dad pulled up to the drop-off as I made an effort to jump out of the car and sprint for the Front Entrance.
    “Now you’re going to have to explain that you were half an hour late to class because you forgot your bag and your daddy had to pick it up for you,” my father sighed. “I want you to just wipe all the stress from last night away today, okay honey?”
    Well, after being scrutinized to the point of tears, I think I’ll be fine. Thanks for caring.
    “And remember, we’re doing this for your own good,”
    Adding stress to my life is beneficial. 
    “I love you, honey,” my dad said kindly.
    “Love you too,” I said throwing my bag over my shoulder. The eerie silence in the halls signified that classes had already started. Mrs. Raile, the most caviling person in high school, looked at me like a child watching The Poltergeist. 
Not only did you leave your bag, but you also look like you just walked out of a dumpster. Great. There goes your chance of trying to cheer up after last night, you idiot. Habitually, I reached up to flatten the tangles and obscure hairs as I smiled and greeted her, trying to act civil. 
    “Morning to you, Mrs. Raile,” I said, trying to look cheerie and grateful that I go to a private school. 
    “Good morning… Ro? Is that what all the kids call you now?” she said chuckling.
    Ro. I thought musingly. Short for Roxanne. Lucy made that up.
I curtly nodded, smiling fondly. “Short for Roxanne, yes, I believe that’s what most call me now,” I say, trying to genuinely smile. She tells me she would check me in as late, asking why.
Oh, just had to pick up the bag that I left because I was too lazy to move it within eye range the night before; no biggie.
“My alarm clock messed up, I guess,” I answered sheepishly. 
    I loped into Chemistry to surprisingly see Lucillia, using her wonderful multitasking skills, was taking notes, puffing her butt out, and flirting with some football jock next to her. Huh. I've never seen her do something like that.
    Meredith was sitting in the back of the room, probably writing poetry with her God-given talent to come up with a metaphorical phrase in 5.3 seconds. My two best friends, worlds apart. My parents always criticised me for befriending either one of them, Lu because of her attitude, and Mari because of her grades. I sat down and apologized for being late, saying my alarm clock screwed up. 
“Miss Herondale, please do not use the term “screwed up” in this class,” Mr. Rhydderch said, his Welsh accent poking out in his impatience. 
“Sorry,” I said distantly. He waved me off and continued with her screwed up lesson plan. 
 The rest of school was extremely screwed. Last period consisted of Mrs. Raile coming in to talk about success, and goals in life. The topic began to settle in my mind. It reminded me of “The Road Not Taken”, although with my own screwed twist on it. My conscious and my desperation to leave the room and die began to become at war with each other.
    If you don’t work, you will not get a degree from a fancy college like Harvard, and you will not get a job. You will never marry, you will be homeless, and you will die either from starvation or from the erratic life of living under a soggy bridge.Technologically, you could get married to a fellow homeless and get married with a thrift shop dress and cheap Sperrys while he would wear a bright flowery shirt with dirt stained khakis. Then the two of you could run off to Los Angeles until you both drove each other crazy and decided to get a divorce, although you were never married to begin with. On the other hand, you could lose your entire social life, become that kid who sucked at sports because you prefer studying over becoming a jock, and become the most successful methylprednisolone on Earth. In doing this, you’d have scads of people surrounding you for your fame, riches, and possible unpretentious attitude. The downside of that would be the number of gold diggers that would try to hook up with you, then causing you to gain Pistanthrophobia. That may also cause you to die along, leaving you no kids to inherit your great riches except the always rapacious government. Either road taken, you will end up as a sad-
    “Roxanne?” I jerk my head up to see Mrs. Raile staring at me with her penetrating green eyes. 
    “M’am,” I say dimly. I can see Meri communicating the question through sign language under the desk. Explain goal… Explain your goal. I staggered to my feet, a million careers running through my head like a gerbil on a wheel. Patient as she was, Mrs. Raile began to give me a pointed look.
    JUST SAY SOMETHING.
    “I think I’d like to attempt to get high grades to pursue the career of--,” I elongated my words to buy myself some time.
    “Perfect!” Mrs. Raile screamed. I jumped and slid down into my desk quickly, staring incredulously at her. She pointed a long, thin finger right at my face.
    “That is the perfect goal for you high schoolers. Good grades. Of course we all strive for that…”
    It’s that or become a pole-dancing stripper. I immediately glanced at Lu, sticking her butt out so far I wondered if it would get stuck in between the back of the seat. 
    “...but sometimes we lose our way in finding our goals. I have a handout I’d like you give you to remind you how important good grades are,” she said with a pronounced smile. I imagined her practicing it to herself in her office. 
    Trust me, I already have two animated reminders at my house.
    As we all walked out, she handed each of us flyers. After waving Lu and Meri off, I walked out to the parking lot and sat in the car. My dad was there, and from the look on his face, he was still furious about last night.
    “Hello, Roxanne,” he said robotically. I sighed. 
    Guess I don’t get a break... 
    “I hope you remember that you’re still in very big trouble for failing that test,” he said pulling out of the parking lot. I just nodded and looked out the window. The car jolted to a stop, and momentarily I had thought we hit a person. 
    Say yes, don’t just sit there like a dumb goat. 
    “What was that?” he asked sharply. I dared myself to turn to face him. My dad was always like this after I was scolded, especially if my brain screwed up and decided to fail my math test. I was still pissed with myself too. Foolishly, I took it out on my dad.
    “I nodded in response,” I said defensively. He leaned over and snatched me by the ear, jerking me towards him.
    “I better not hear that again, Miss. You’re already in heaps of trouble with your mother, you wanna get into some more with me?” he growled. I shook my head slowly. My dad might have been the kindest person I had ever met, yet he was also the scariest. He could make me cry from his chivalry, or shake in fear. He let go of my ear and continued on home. neither of us said anything, mostly because I had put my earphones in and began listening to “Inside the Fire” by Disturbed to distract myself. 
    When I got home, I finished whatever I had to finish for homework and sat on my bed, thinking about how much people and school and just life in general totally sucked. I stared at the bright pink rug, so bright it could blind you, and thought about what would happen if I were free of this life. Daydreams and nightmares floated in my head like clouds. 
    Laughing and skipping like a child, Meri, Lu, he, and I all ran through the hills, like dandelions sailing in the wind. I was wearing my favorite sweater with dark jeans, and they were actually clean. The weight I’ve carried about since school began was strangely… gone. All together, like hippies from an overly optimistic commercial for world peace, the four of us sat on a perfectly green patch of grass, staring out into whatever egoistic hippies stared at in horribly portrayed commercials. Together, we sat for what felt like hours talking, and laughing. He even seemed to open up to Meri and Lu, as much as he seemed to dislike them at first. As the sun set, we all stared in amazement as it sat perfectly above a distant hill. It was like we really were in some perfection where everything was happy and contented. 
    That dream began to change. All three of them disappeared, and it was pitch black outside. I sat there, frozen, soon perceiving I was in an alley. It was ice cold outside compared to the warm feeling from before. Wrapping myself in my arms, I walked out towards the street until someone grabbed me and pulled me away from the alley and into a deteriorated door. Screaming and scratching at the man holding me, I broke free, sprinting for the exit.

I suddenly realized how far away my mind had taken me from my original proposition and shook my head fiercely. 
I have got to stop doing this.
I sat up in bed, looking at the clock. 7:30. Horribly early for my average school night.
Might as well. I thought forlornly. Falling backwards, I ended up lying there until 10:50, in which I promptly fell asleep. 
                                                                                     ***
    I crashed into my door hearing the hinges scream as I slammed the door shut behind me. I ran into the confined corner of my room, everything beginning to take action in slow motion. Stopping momentarily at my dresser, I scrambled desperately for the nail file. Old blood stains were painted on the edges of each side. Screeching in frustration I threw it aside and ran around my room, digging through drawers like a pedofile looking for lost children. Unsure what emotion was pushing me onward with this procedure I stared darkly at the long, rust covered fishing knife I had found. I placed the tip soundly on my arm, too shaky to move it down. I closed my eyes and pushed the tip of the knife in, screaming. Desperately I stood, repeatedly striking myself with the knife. Burning pain, a gory sight, grinding teeth. I switched arms, although the job on the second arm was not as well done as the first due to blood loss. Darkness began to fill the corners of my eyes, as well as multicolored spots. Grabbing uselessly as the edge of my dresser, I fell to the ground, landing hard on my shoulder. I heard a soft snap, distant and quiet. My shoulder had dislocated from my weight and the hardwood floor colliding together onto it. Shaking uncontrollably, I closed my eyes. I was the best sleep I had gotten in months. 
                                                                                    ***
I woke up to my mother shaking me violently. 
    “You stayed up again, didn’t you?” she said, pursing her lips. “It’s already 6:45. Get up and get ready, now,” she whispered demandingly. 
    I didn’t… I’d thought I’d said it aloud. 
    Groggy and dysfunctional, I swung my feet over the edge of the bed. It came again, faster than normal. My skin felt like it was tingling everywhere, and my vision began to blur. I gripped the edge of my bed frame until my mother walked out of the room, which seemed to take eons. Just as she slammed the door shut, I let go and let myself fall. 
    I opened my eyes to find myself on the fuzzy pink rug in the center of my floor. Forcing myself to get up, I pulled on a pair of jeans and my hoodie. Grabbing my things, I headed straight out the door. 
    God that better not happen at school...
    I stood there for what felt like a millennium until the bus slowed to a stop, screeching like a bat. I waved happily to Lucy and her guy friend parked beside her before joining Meri in the back of the bus. It was too loud to talk, so she pulled up the Notes app on her phone for us to talk. I still didn’t have my phone. 
    “You didn’t get switched yet?” she asked. I showed her my legs, which were free from scratch marks.
    “Good, how are you feeling?” she asked therapeutically. 
    Tell her. Make her worry. It’ll lessen the amount of stress you have…. keep it a secret. It’s not her problem to deal with.     It bounced back and forth in my mind until I smiled and nodded. I grabbed her phone momentarily and responded with:
“I’m fine.”
    She smiled and patted me on the back. We continued to talk about the different gossips floating around until the bus arrived at the Gates of Hell. I couldn’t tell if she knew something was wrong or not. 
    You’ve made your decision. Don’t break. Don’t tell her. Don’t tell anyone. Don’t explain anything. 
    The bus slammed to a stop as I quickly waved Meri away and rushed to my paper-filled locker. 
    I really need to clean this. I opened the locker and got my Algebra books. 
    A giant WM trash truck wrecked the hallways as it backed up to my locker. Overflowing with paper, it struggled to pull out of the ruined school.
    Pop quiz in math.
    What if I fail again? What if they switch me? Will I lose my ride to college if I mess this up, will something bad happen so I don’t have to take it? If so, will something bad happen to me? Who invented pop quizzes, and why? I knew I should have studies last night. Idiot. Maybe I can go over some things without her looking. I might be able to sneak a few tips onto my calculator.
    Lu handed me a few notes and gave me a few pointers about the materials that would appear on the test. I gave her what I thought was a smile, but she had slapped me in the face with her fiery hair before I could say a proper thank you.
Huh. Smells like cinnamon.  She sat back down and smiled brightly at Mrs. Huppert. Huppert followed suit.
Such is the world of fake smiles. 
    My hands had already began to shake as Mrs. Huppert began to pass out the quizzes. I stared at the first question. 

    My brain turned into a rock. I stared at it for five minutes until I felt a giant cotton ball in my throat.
No. Not now. Not here, in front of everybody. Keep it together. You made your choice this morning about what you were going to do, so shut up!
    I tried several times to solve the problem, only confusing myself even worse each time.
    You’re so stupid, just think! Lu just went over this with you, you idiot.
    I didn’t realize how hard my pencil was pressed against the paper, making it snap in half.
    My dad was holding a small, thin branch in his hand. He raised it in the air, dishonor and disapproval flashing prominently in his eyes. Briars were curled around the very end of the stick. In one quick flash, he lowered his arm. I allowed myself to--
    Mrs. Huppert had me by both of my shoulders, shaking me violently. I hadn’t realized I was screaming until it was too late. Everyone was staring at me like a pack of wolves would to a fat little rabbit. i tried to explain what had happened, and it was all a misunderstanding.
    “S-stop staring..” I screamed. 
You idiot! Just get out of the class, you can’t even act mature.
    I bolted for the door wincing as it slammed against the wall due to my brutal force. Shooting into the bathroom I jumped onto the the toilet like Spiderman and stared at the hook on the inside of the bathroom stall. I could hear my shaky breathing as I tried to slow it down, my breath hitching every now and then. I tried to keep my eyes open as much as i could, my dad’s angry face hidden on the inside of my eyelids, in the back of my mind. I heard Lu’s shoes from outside the Girls’ bathroom. I stopped breathing. 
    “Ro? Ro, what was that? I’m so sorry…” she paused for a second. She knew what was wrong with me. She’d watched me do it before. “You know they’d never do that to you right?”
    Like hell they wouldn’t.
    I was stupid enough to let a small sigh slip out. I could see her beige pumps under the stall door. 
    “Come on Ro, you can’t hide in there forever,” she encouraged me on. I reached out for the small, metal lock. The one thing standing in between my humiliation. I jumped off of the toilet and unlocked the door.
    It happened. 
    Black spots invaded my vision. Panicking, I grabbed onto Lu’s arm, staring at one specific tile on the bathroom floor.
    “Ro?!” Lu screamed. She screamed for help and made a lousy attempt to lean me against the bathroom wall. It felt like sleeping, almost… 
    Is this what dying feels like?
Hi! I'm new, this is a piece I've been working on, please make any corrections that I haven't, or leave an opinion! 

Print

See History

Login or Signup to provide a comment.