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hippppoo101

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     My days are filled with sitting here at my desk with only my typewriter at hand. This cold basement is chilling me to the bone and I only have one sweatshirt which reads American Eagle on the front. It is a blue/green color and it has been worn a lot. On one sleeve it has a black ink spill on it from my typewriter. it’s the only thing that keeps me almost warm down here in this lightly lit basement.

     My room is located just under the stairs in the storage closet, that in fact has spiders and other nasty bugs that I’m not to fond of. My parents are upstairs with some of their pot head friends. that’s why I’m down here, to escape all of them. When they get to high they come looking for me. The older guys that is. They used to find me. When my room was on the 2^nd floor of our house. But they don’t even know I’m down here, hiding. Typing my life story on this horrible typewriter when my desk top is upstairs, turned off, unused. Its just so alone up there I wish I could have so I could share my life with the world.

       My name is untitled to most people, but in the real world my name is Allison Messenger, but in my world I go by Kayla. Allison *humph* such a dull name. So boring, so offbeat, so depressing to say. But Kayla. Such a happy name. you cant not smile while saying it. It just brightens your day to say such a happy, non-boring name.

      I can smell the pot burning upstairs. It burns my nose as it slips through the cracks on the stairs. Filling my little hidden room with smoke that gives me a contact high. I feel so light headed, but not in pain. I feel almost happy as I wave my hand in the air to try and get the smoke away from my breathing air. Its no use I kind of like this feeling, taking deeper breathes. Sucking in all I can before they find me. They know I’m here, somewhere in this house. Hiding from them, like a game of hide and seek. They know I’ll loose, I always loose. I get to high to control myself from the bad things they do.

      I usually pass out in the middle of it all though, I’m happy for that. I don’t think I could live knowing that I was awake through all the raping and torturing they put me through. Knowing that the 2 people who should keep me most safe are standing by watching, getting off to it. It sickens me. But at least I drift off and I cant look them in the eyes anymore. I drift off into the clouds where they cant harm me anymore, where I’m somewhat safe from all the pain. Only temporarily but, at least its for awhile and not at all. I love going to that place. Its they only place I can go where I’m high above the clouds.