Treasure Island

tiffany fawcett

(not yet / St. Joesopehs Hospital)

Innocence & madness

-Innocence & Madness-

Innocence written in warm blood on the cold tile floor of the bleach white bathroom.
The girl sat, hunched over,
Rubbing at the rich red stain in haste,
Rocking back and forth as if the white walls were padded.
The long sleeves of her white shirt tied behind her back.
Her hands trembled,
Like an old wrinkled red leaf on an oak tree.
Her breath caught in her chest,
A caged bird, stalked by a Tabby.
A drum thrums in her chest,
Wildly growing faster.
Her head jerks,
Violently shaking no.
Her eyes dart to the shiny black object,
Resting on the linoleum.
A small weapon of mass destruction.
Her stomach churned,
The sour taste just before the storm.
A thousand thoughts race through her mind,
A waterfall off the edge of the earth.
A mothers sobs heard audibly from another room.
The whining of rudely impeding sirens reach her ears,
She stops.
Her face contorts in anger and rage.
She’s on her feet,
Twisting on all the faucets.
She shakes,
Racked by her own sobs.
She slowly slides down the wall,
Curling into a ball on the floor while steam rolled lazily up to the ceiling.
The noise subsided in the rush of running water.
The girl looks up at herself,
Her voice catching,
“Why? ”
Cold hands caress her face,
She kneels before herself.
“Because you’re weak. You’ll never be good enough, You’ll never make it.”
She hastily pulls her face from her hands,
“I’m not ready! ”
She yells at her like a freight train,
Seconds from hitting a brick wall.
“You are now, ” she whispers quietly to her.
Cold. Apathetic.
Foot steps pounded up the stairs,
Creating anxiety,
Like the headlights of a speeding car on your face.
She knows her home.
She knows it well.
Tears and sobs filling the walls.
Her eyes fall to it again,
A groan of anguish.
She can hear the splintering of wood as the rams head greets the door.
Her pale hand grasps the cold metal,
Turning white with her grip.
The door, Seconds from giving way.
Creaking in pain.
She looks into it’s black hallow pit,
Emotions running wild.
“Just do it! ” she yells at her.
The bathroom light bounces off it’s surface.
She grabs it quickly,
Finger on the trigger,
A twitch, A bang.
More innocence written on the floor.
Her chest tightens.
Gripping the break.
She can hear her struggled breath.
The altered heartbeat,
A cadence gone wrong.
The door explodes,
The light fading,
Her eyes flutter,
Quick strobes of black and white.
A masked vigilante with a shiny badge leans over her,
Fingers at her neck.
“She’s gone.”
She tries,
Mute. Paralyzed.
“I’m still here! ”
They’re further away.

Submitted: Tuesday, March 10, 2009

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  • Sharma Phuyal (3/20/2009 3:42:00 PM)

    you aint no going to jail even if u wrote that.. it was beautiful construction and mixture of feelings.... really loved it a lot! ! ! (Report) Reply

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