Hi there, Cxizent here. First thread, and I decided to post a short story I'd written. "Seina" is Finnish for "The Wall", and this story is loosely based around a song of the same name. I'd appreciate any feedback, positive or negative, so long as it's constructive. Of course I don't expect everyone to abide by that little footnote, but I still thought I should say it.
Hope you enjoy.
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Seina
I have my own little system. It's stupid, really. Some little rules that I came up with a while ago, and I just always play them out and follow along in my head. It lends structure. I draw one tally-mark if I'm mad at someone else, and I draw a group of five tallies if I'm mad at myself. It's good to have rules to follow, I suppose.
I hate going downstairs. It's just really not a nice place, I hate how the wall moves along past me and mocks me, and I hate how the walls down there leer and taunt me. It's just stupid craziness, I know, but I still don't like going down there.
The walls float past me soothingly, and my pale skin touches the bright doorknob. The shining door slides itself open, and the calming stairs carry me down to lay me on the bright floor. I love laying down here. It's good to have rules.
I have my own little system. It helps, I suppose. Some stupid rules that I got told to follow a while ago, like the dicks who told me knew anything. They tell me it gives rigidity to my life, or some shit. I don't listen, because really, my tally system has always worked. Always.
I hate my room. It's terrible, and I feel helpless when the walls rush past me, laughing as the ceiling runs away and leaves the floor to catch me. It's nothing that no-one else hasn't had to go through, I know, but I still don't like it.
I hit the wall for the first time, and it stops groaning. I grip the axe tighter and hit the wall, and it sways onto the stairs. I hit the wall for the first time, and the axe doesn't leave a mark. I hate rules.
I don't want to become a part of the system... it sounds stupid and paranoid, but I hate the world sometimes. I like people, but humans make me mad. People are so damn stupid, and it makes me mad. So I draw my tally-marks and the mad goes away. It's good to have structure, I guess.
I hate my house. It walls me in, and I can't stand it. Sometimes I forget to breathe, and that sends everyone else into a fit of worry. I hate causing a scene. It only makes me mad at myself. I'll be fine though, I have my own little system.
I scream, and hit the stairs for the first time, and they stop swaying. I hold the mallet tightly and punish the stairs, and they lean over the floor. I hit the stairs for the first time, and my mallet laughs at me. I wish I didn't have to draw, sometimes.
I have this system... sometimes it makes me weak, and I can't stand up properly. It's just the price I pay, I suppose. I shouldn't be mad anyway. I can't ignore my own rules... I pull up my sleeve, and start to draw.
I hate that helpless feeling, when you have to lay down and listen to your own brain throbbing. It makes me feel weak, and I just want it to shut up, it makes me so mad... I hate my system.
I shake, and fall onto the floor, and hit the wall for the first time, and it bleeds. I grab the knife tightly, I hold the wrong end of the knife, and the confining walls start to give in. I hit the wall for the first time... for the thousandth time, and the tally-marks cry out. I lay down and scream, and my walls bubble and seeth, for the first time.
For the thousanth time.
Hope you enjoy.
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Seina
I have my own little system. It's stupid, really. Some little rules that I came up with a while ago, and I just always play them out and follow along in my head. It lends structure. I draw one tally-mark if I'm mad at someone else, and I draw a group of five tallies if I'm mad at myself. It's good to have rules to follow, I suppose.
I hate going downstairs. It's just really not a nice place, I hate how the wall moves along past me and mocks me, and I hate how the walls down there leer and taunt me. It's just stupid craziness, I know, but I still don't like going down there.
The walls float past me soothingly, and my pale skin touches the bright doorknob. The shining door slides itself open, and the calming stairs carry me down to lay me on the bright floor. I love laying down here. It's good to have rules.
I have my own little system. It helps, I suppose. Some stupid rules that I got told to follow a while ago, like the dicks who told me knew anything. They tell me it gives rigidity to my life, or some shit. I don't listen, because really, my tally system has always worked. Always.
I hate my room. It's terrible, and I feel helpless when the walls rush past me, laughing as the ceiling runs away and leaves the floor to catch me. It's nothing that no-one else hasn't had to go through, I know, but I still don't like it.
I hit the wall for the first time, and it stops groaning. I grip the axe tighter and hit the wall, and it sways onto the stairs. I hit the wall for the first time, and the axe doesn't leave a mark. I hate rules.
I don't want to become a part of the system... it sounds stupid and paranoid, but I hate the world sometimes. I like people, but humans make me mad. People are so damn stupid, and it makes me mad. So I draw my tally-marks and the mad goes away. It's good to have structure, I guess.
I hate my house. It walls me in, and I can't stand it. Sometimes I forget to breathe, and that sends everyone else into a fit of worry. I hate causing a scene. It only makes me mad at myself. I'll be fine though, I have my own little system.
I scream, and hit the stairs for the first time, and they stop swaying. I hold the mallet tightly and punish the stairs, and they lean over the floor. I hit the stairs for the first time, and my mallet laughs at me. I wish I didn't have to draw, sometimes.
I have this system... sometimes it makes me weak, and I can't stand up properly. It's just the price I pay, I suppose. I shouldn't be mad anyway. I can't ignore my own rules... I pull up my sleeve, and start to draw.
I hate that helpless feeling, when you have to lay down and listen to your own brain throbbing. It makes me feel weak, and I just want it to shut up, it makes me so mad... I hate my system.
I shake, and fall onto the floor, and hit the wall for the first time, and it bleeds. I grab the knife tightly, I hold the wrong end of the knife, and the confining walls start to give in. I hit the wall for the first time... for the thousandth time, and the tally-marks cry out. I lay down and scream, and my walls bubble and seeth, for the first time.
For the thousanth time.
