Sunday, 12 June 2011


I'm so neglectful, I really need to write on here more but I'm sooo busy. When I'm on the computer I'm writing or searching and things slip my mind, it's like a sieve with 100% more holes! if I don't write it down it doesn't tend to get remembered. So I'm going to try more, at least one a year :) no more than that one a month, i'll try once a month and wok on that.

My favourite things this week: Oranges, pumpkins and pretty in pink oh and Ryan Robbins


It's rough work


When I woke up this morning the clouds were cast a dull grey and rain was kissing the horizon, I wiggled my toes under the covers stretching into the heat that had gathered below them. I can't say that I noticed anything different about the morning, nothing unusual stirred in the air, from what I could see through my sleep filled eyes nothing was out of place, and everything was as I had left it.

So I pulled my still weary limbs from bed and thudded my way to the bathroom, absently turned the light on and tried in vain to chase the sandman away. After 10 minutes of icy water and little to no luck I wandered blank eyed back into my bedroom. At this point there came a niggling, fretting feeling playing at the edges of my mind, I swirled in an uneven circle a feeling that someone's eyes lay upon me but no one was around to be found and so I continued on my journey back to the bedroom still with the ever growing niggling feeling.

I began my morning routine my thoughts elsewhere trying to remember the dream I had dreamt, you see after twirling a round and not finding any eyes upon me I decided that the fretting, niggling feeling had strayed from my dreams but and not for a lack of trying, I could not recall what had played out, the though quickly drifted from my mind as did the fretting, niggling feeling.

I happily applied my makeup without any disturbances that is until I noticed the room growing darker, I checked the clock not enough time had lapsed for night to fall and if it had I would have found myself worrying about a whole different problem. No it was not an eclipse or an alien invasion that had blocked out the morning light; I had not suddenly lost my mind or my sight. In fact heavy black rain clouds had formed in the sky, blotting the suns light from the day, I flinched as the first crack of thunder trembled in the air and fat rain drops began to pelt against the window. As the Darkness had obscured my sight I moved across the room toward the light switch but as my hand reached out for the shiny white knob I caught a glimmer in the mirror of my wardrobe. It was a quick glimpse that sent chills down my spine and rendered my arm motionless, the hairs on my out stretched arm had risen in fear, I could not breath but in a curious need to explore everything I, not unlike these rather naive girls who always walk upstairs to investigate a loud bang, I did not turn on the light that I was less than an inch from instead I walked in the watery darkness over to the three full length mirrors, I stood and stared deeply into the reflection of the inky room, nothing moved, noting but my own image breathing a sigh of short lived relief. For when I looked closely, when the clouds parted slightly casting a grey haze of light over the mirrors, I noticed something about my own reflection it was but it was not my own; it gulped in deep breathes of its own air and blinked its greying eyelids out of sync. Now the fear that had earlier stopped my hand from reaching the light switch had spread to my whole body, I stared open mouthed at the woman looking back at me, myself but different and as I finally determined what it was that made the woman in the mirror not me I wished I had not, instead I wished I had forced my limbs into action and crawled under my covers, plugging my ears and squeezing my eye lids shut but I had not and now I had to face what stood in front of me.

I was staring at my ghost. Her skin was pale and was cast a sickly green hue hovering beneath the greying tissue. Her cheeks were hollow and her eyes sunken, all colours had drained from her irises and thick lines of decay ran beneath her skin. The nails on her hands were yellowing; some were missing leaving raw, rotten flesh beneath. Her hair hung lank, huge clumps had fallen out revealing dirty scalp beneath as she moved her lips they cracked oozing green liquid, she licked at them with her dry, swollen tongue and smiled at me the ragged lips stretching over blackened teeth. When I gasped she tilted her head back and let out a soundless, gasping laugh the noise escaping through the gaping gash that traced from one ear to the other, her throat had been cut. The wound now cake din dried blood, dripping and bulging, the flesh around the wound had putrefied and was now heaving with maggots. I clutched my stomach, acidic vomit rising in my throat, gagging I tried to turn away but she would not let me, and she reached out with her festering hand and pointed toward me, her fetid breath leaking out into the room ridding it of breathable air.


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