(Don’t fear) The reaper

[(dohnt feer) th uh ree-per]: This has been used in several horror movies, including HalloweenThe Frighteners and Scream. It was also used in a very non-horror capacity in the party scene of the Disney movie Miracle, which is about the US Hockey team beating the USSR at the 1980 Olympic Games.

 

The House That God Has Forgotten part 31: Trying to feel.

Her life feels like a car driving slowly through a tunnel, when all the urge you have deep inside of you is to fly through like your life depends on it.

Her life depends on a lot of things, but more importantly enough it is the voices that are in her head.

Her father always told her not to eat where you get your bread, and if you think of someone that reached their peak in the late 60’s and early 70’s his words were about sex. Don’t mix up your work with your sex life.

She couldn’t help it though. She was self destructive. She liked the pain.

In a world far away…she was saving pills to one day take them all at once and drink them down with a bottle of alcohol. Her idol a great poet did the same thing except that she took the pills, drank the vodka and went in the car, turned the windows down started the engine and fell asleep.

She is glad she did not go there. Eventually she saw pictures of what that looked like and is glad she did not look like that. It was not a glamours way to die.

She only took the pills.

And then she spent the rest of the night embracing the cold porcelain of the toilet and lying on the tile floor.

For some reason when you are sick, the bathroom is your oasis from the rest of the world and you refuse to leave there.

“Stop making so much noise!” her father yelled at her.

Little to be known that she had just tried to kill herself.

She rolled her way through life making many stops, but the one thing that could not stop her was the need to feel, because she never did that for real.

She would wake up every morning and put on that blue uniform. Not a uniform she was especially proud of, but a uniform just the same.

She would walk the halls living in a dream. Thinking about what the next thing she could do to try and feel.

The last time she tried, she had drank too much alcohol and ended up in that same type of bathroom she was in as a teenager. Instead this time, she was not alone.

She wanted to feel. That was all she wanted to do.

They waited in line together. Something about that they both needed to urinate after the countless alcoholic beverages that they had consumed.

She took him by the hand and leaned into his ears with her breath dusting over him with the smell of perfume and wine.

“I know of a place where we do not have to wait in line” she whispered while taking a bite of the nub of his ear.

He blindly followed. They always do.

She pulled him in the bathroom and slowly lifted her dress. He looked at her with the eyes of a tiger as he fumbled over her breasts like a teenage boy and dug his wine filled tongue in her mouth.

She pulled down her panties like a heated middle aged woman during an after Christmas sale at the local HM store.

He fumbled over his belt and twisted like a snake to get it unhinged. His pants fell to the ground and he pulled his pants down with the fervour of a marine soldier attacking a terrorist in some far off land.

They fucked.

They fucked so hard that they did not notice that woman that opened the door with a look of surprise in her eyes.

“How on Earth will I explain this to people?” she thought to herself as she closed the door.

She wanted to feel. That was all she wanted to do.

However, as the story goes. This is the latest of her escapades.

She always wore long sleeves or a light jacket over her dresses. No one ever thought so much about it, but she had all the reasons in the world not to show her skin to the rest of the sober world.

She loved knives. She love the steel cold blade so much that she would keep them in the refrigerator to keep them cool.

When she would sit at home on the sofa, she in a ritual would light the room filled with candles, put the same song on repeat and slowly take the cold knife out of refrigerator and run it down the chest of her topless body.

This is where the fun began. Her hands steadily slicing up and down her arm so she could bleed.

She wanted to feel. That was all she wanted to do.

One day while wearing her blue uniform she let it slip that she had been betrayed by a lover. Not someone she cared about so much, but it always makes one ego fall down a few notches when this happens.

The man with the tattoos and muscular body overheard and started to formulate the words to win her heart.

Why not? He had hours alone in his room and nothing else better to do with his time.

He would write her long letters about love and poetry.

“I will take care of you forever” he scribbled with his blue pin. “It will be you and me against the world”

She did not care too much about what the letters had to say, but she loved trying to feel the excitement so she started writing him back.

If there was one thing she could do, this girl could write.

And that she did.

She told him how she longs for him and would do anything he asks her to do to prove her undying love to him.

“You are my prince” she would say to him over and over again.

She loved sneaking in with the cocaine in her pocket.

She was hoping it would make her feel.

She wanted to feel. That was all she wanted to do.

One day she got tired of feeling and made a plan of action, she was going to feel if it meant making the final choice her lifetime.

She sat at her table all alone as the light of the soon to be summer shined through the windows, and she lined up all of her pills neatly in a row.

She crushed them one by one with a bottom of an IKEA glass she bought for next to nothing and she mixed them together with water.

It tasted bitter. It tasted like shit.

She took the knife out of her refrigerator and sat on the floor. As she ran the knife up and down her arm she thought about everything that had happened in her life, and how she wished it would have worked the first time, but it didn’t.

So she was destined to fail from the beginning.

She fell asleep on the floor with the knife in her hand held fast and full of disappointment.

She woke up on time the next morning when the alarm went off at 5. It was just another day as she took a shower and put on her blue uniform.

No one knew what happened the night before, and she would not tell a soul.

She wanted to feel. That is all she wanted to do.

I met two at The House That God Has Forgotten that stopped trying.

How many more are there out there roaming the corridors wearing blue?

 

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