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Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Drama · #1033125
A short story touching very briefly on a couple aspects of a girls life.
Slowly she clamped her fingers down on the squirming, ugly creature. It stared into her eyes in panic, not understanding why death was to come upon it so quickly. The answer was quite simple for any logical mind. It had bothered her. Everything that moved had begun to bother her. Spiders being no exception; therefore just being alive was a reason for it to be dead.

Just a few months prior, she would have jumped at the mere thought of any type of bug being near her, nevermind touching the thing. But things had changed, lots of things for such a short period of time, and these things had impacted her innocent mind drastically, until it was quite contaminated and warped.

Now she realized that you got to do what you got to do to survive, and she very capably did what had to be done. Stopping at nothing until you reached your destination or goal is a very admirable trait, yet in her, it seemed almost repulsive. Maybe it was the fact that she actually DIDN'T stop at anything, unlike most people who would try hard to not hurt others. To her, it didn’t matter what happened as long as it had no negative affect on her. Maybe she was selfish, maybe she was stupid, or maybe she was just desperate. Desperation can drive people to do horrible things…horrible, unforgivable things. But does a desperate person really care whether or not they’re forgiven? Possibly deep down, but living the life she was, there was no room for sensitivity.

Near abandoned, half-starved, and completely friendless, Kelli was in a prime position for desperation, and was not mentally strong enough to withstand hard times without reaching out blindly for help. Well, when you refuse to open your eyes and see the full picture and what’s really happening around you, chances are your going to fuck something up. And Kelli did, because she was too stubborn to step back and just take somebody else’s advice. In reality, it was her who made her life the mess it was. She created the problems and was responsible for them, but how well can a 15 year old girl live each day when they aren’t worth living? Since she refused to blame her problems on herself and accept the fact that it was even a little bit her fault that she was barely getting through every day, she placed all the blame on her mother, a drunk who was rarely home, and her father who had abandoned her family when she was merely 6 years old.

Deep down, she knew that she could not base her insecurities and less than perfect life just on those two things. If she put in the effort and attempted to change the way things were going now, she probably could, but she felt the need to take care of her mother, who was more like the child in the relationship now. Kelli would probably sell her soul if it meant more money to attempt to put to good use for the living situation. It didn’t help that slowly, but inevitably, she was becoming a substance abuser; it was the only thing that she could always count on. Half the money she earned selling herbs, that she claimed was marijuana, to inexperienced and unsuspecting kids, ended up going up her nose. Inside, no matter how deep down, she still had life left in her, the part of her that had not completely numbed. But with the direction she was heading and the speed she was going, it was inevitable that soon enough she’d come to the same fate that the other people who could never get away from their dependence on a certain drug came to. Soon, she would have no feelings left. There would be no emotions at all. If only she had someone who cared about her enough to notice these things and to try to help her, but she was all alone. A young girl playing an adults role in the cruel world.

And Kelli realized this, which didn’t make the situation any better; all it did was cause her to feel sorry for herself. Which was what she was doing at the moment. Sitting on the floor, staring at the spider inbetween her fingers, and wishing someone would do that to her. But nobody would, and that was the thought that finally woke her up out of the trance. That nobody was going to kill her, so she had to make the best of it for now. That may sound optimistic, but in her case, it just meant numbing the pain. It meant closing out all the feelings she had for short periods of time, and hoping, always with no avail, that when they came back they wouldn’t be so strong.

She stood up and glanced quickly around the room. It wasn’t TOO horribly messy. Kay, maybe it was, but that wasn’t her prime worry at the moment. The thing that was most pressing on her mind was getting out of the house before her mother got home. She didn’t want, or need to deal with it right now.

Picking up her jacket and keys, she prepared to head out. As soon as her key had clicked in the lock, she started to turn around. When she completed her turn, she found herself almost nose to nose with an official looking man who had a briefcase in his hand. He informed her, however regretfully, that her mother had been taken into an institution to help her break her habits: drinking and hard drugs. Kelli couldn’t determine between shock or confusion. But one thing she couldn’t deny was the sudden, warm feeling she had in her stomach, though she couldn’t identify it.

She didn’t need, or want details. But she knew that what her mother needed was her support, and she knew that she was more than willing to give it to her. She also realized that, though she hadn’t accepted it up until then, she also had a problem that couldn’t be fixed without support from others.

The man left soon after, and Kelli re-entered her house since she now had no need to go out. She picked up a little baggy filled with a white, powdery substance: cocaine. With little more than a second of hesitation, she walked to the bathroom, threw it into the toilet, and flushed. Perhaps, if her mom could change, she could too. No matter how unconsentual her mothers’ recovery may be, Kelli would do it out of pure willpower. Now, with just the slight bit of hope that she allowed herself, she started cleaning the house; it needed a makeover almost as bad as she did. Though she knew it would be hard to change, and was definitely far from sure that she would succeed, when Kelli went to bed that night, a little bit more of her was alive than had been a few hours ago. She had rid a tiny bit of her from the numbness and replaced it with hope. And that made her happier than she could remember being in a long time. That night, she fell asleep with a smile on her lips and a dream in her heart. She could, she WOULD, survive.
© Copyright 2005 xoTiaLynne (maybememorys at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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