Stood at the stove, counting the bubbles in the pan as they rise and burst to the hiss of boiling potatoes. The pitch and tone of the hiss is unbroken and, I begin to think, unstoppable. Then there is the wincing of the bright light which flickers above us like the flickers of a violent migraine. Combined the two create a sharp pain inside my head, something similar to the migraine I had only hours ago been released from. The sense of dread in my stomach, a sticky sick feeling, builds, due, perhaps, to the sting coiling its way around my spine. A signal, sending warning to my brain.
Slumped across my skull, pressing a dull ache down th
I've been sick from the top to the bottom of my stomach considering the mess I've fucking made, all in the name of a good love. How one thing lead to such another.
It's my 18th Birthday in two days time so I've been wearing my bright red heels around the house so they're comfortable enough to dance in because on your birthday your really gotta dance good.
Jacob simply spent all of his time learning about smothered children, ironic considering his own death was caused by suffocation, and on writing theories about leadership, power and strength.
Jacob had a mind beyond that of any other man I had ever met. It was true to say that I hated him but I cannot deny that he was the most brilliant individual one could begin to imagine.
Jacob and I had met during winter. Jacob found the brooding and miserable atmosphere of winter quite comfortable, it was fitting, I suppose, that his short life both ended and began during the month of November. Everything about Jacob was like this. Every aspect of him