Chapter 2

1695 Words
Slashing Burning I feel like I’m being incarcerated. What’s happening to me? I felt this before, just a few days ago. What does this mean? Please make it stop! Please, please, please…. …………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………. .................................................................................................... Today was just as miserable as every other day and apparently it’s infectious. People seeing me depressed become depressed themselves. I mean what do you expect me to feel? Like I’m walking on sunshine. It’s freaking Friday afternoon. And I know what you’re thinking, it’s Friday, I should be exhilarated that it’s the weekend in a matter of a few hours. But no, that’s the part I hate the most. It means I have to hunt. Hunt them. Hunt him. That damn warrior. So anyways, in case you’re wandering what EXACTLY do I do for a living and why I chose it specifically…it’s a super ass long explanation (well long to me anyway)…wait…did I just say super ass long?! Okay here’s my somewhat valid explanation for that…I was referring to Whales. Blue whales. Yeah they have long asses. Huh. Never really noticed before. Uh huh. Before I diverge from the story like verbal diarrhoea is coming out of my mouth…I chose astrophysics, well simply because I can. I didn’t choose that career because I wanted to know what atoms really were, no, that’s what Google’s for. I didn’t choose it because I wanted to bare a title as an ambassador of science or even to be perceived as an academic in all my fashion, No. I choose this because it’s one thing that can control me with my complete willingness. The particles that make up my body made me. Grew me. Control everything around me. Galaxies upon galaxies are born and destroyed. Nebulas are formed with some only to be consumed by black holes. And how impeccably beautiful are these? The sky owned by a graveyard of stars and the soil on land owned by a graveyard of people. Okay back to me. I was a smart kid growing up. Fine. A f*****g genius who could put Einstein and every other scientist before me to shame. I could read adult novels at the age of 6 with Jane Austin’s Pride and Prejudice being one of my favourites. I mean it’s timeless. Classic. I have photographic memory as if a hard drive with unlimited storage was implanted in my brain. I can remember the way the breeze felt on my warm skin this cloudy morning to every word I read or skimmed through and every face that I walked by to work. I remember all of it. Everything. And that’s the problem. I can never unsee it. I can never forget any of them. No matter how hard I try. My parents, God don’t ever bless their souls, thought I was disfunctional to the normal not special. They were embarrassed of me not proud. I never went to a school for the gifted. I went to your stereotypical boarding school far away. I mean, it was practically in another country. They said they couldn’t afford a gifted school. But I knew the truth. They didn’t want to afford it. Dad got numerous promotions for the business he works for. From a simple hard worker to a construction manager. But he turned it down, just like mum. She could have been a principal of an entire school not just the high school biology teacher. Sometimes I feel like I kept them from their goals and dreams. That if I wasn’t me they could be them. Okay back to some happy s**t. You know when Sia said in her song “keep me down but I’m on fire. I am titanium”? well that’s exactly what I did. I embraced the metalloid that I am. I topped every class in every subject every year. Most grades like grade 7 were too easy for me so my teachers pushed me up to the next grade. Eventually I ended up in grade 12 and matriculated with all distinctions and an average of 98.5 (I’m gloating. Deal with it) at the age of 12. Yes 12. You should have seen their faces. It was as if I served my parents a plate of fish guts and eyeballs. Priceless College was heaven. I was best friends with the s*x god. NO No No No Nooooo Take your mind out of the gutter right now! We were not friends with benefits. I was not his submissive. I was not a w***e. The only reason we were friends was because I was the b***h from hell. Like I know there’s a special place there for me. The f*****g throne. He f****d around and I protected his ass. But honestly it got boring real quick. Plus I hated the names people kept for me. Ten-inch guardian and b***h with d**k. Like really?! I mean, I know he has ten inches, isn’t that the ultimate definition of a s*x god/casanova/Neanderthal ??? and hold up, I know I have more balls than the men on campus but really?! That just makes me sound like a transgender. No offense to them. Their bad asses with courage that I wish I had and could display effortlessly. I preferred to be known as the brain devil. The b***h that made her presence felt miles away. I, like usual, aced everything. I got my physics degree, masters and eventually PhD in astrophysics. I became a doctor of science. Now I’m sitting like, well, a jester. Not Queen. Not even a peasant. I mean I have a mediocre job even though I have one of the highest paid qualifications. Maybe because I act like I know it all, that’s probably why nobody wants to employ me. Who am I kidding, I do know it all. It’s not my fault they talk like their born from stupidity. How many times do you have to tell someone “I know” before they finally get it into their cranium? Right, a million times, because everyone loovvvesss to repeat themselves (note my sarcasm). So here I am this wonderful afternoon at this foul-stench ridden hole in the ground. Musky cologne and Jasmine infused perfume intoxicates my nostrils, not to mention that the place smells like someone puked alcohol all over the floor. Oh wait, avocado dress here just did. Great. This is fun-f*****g-tastic. Could an underground club called “Strip it Down” not live up to it’s name for once? People, there’s only so much skin I can handle seeing without wanting to cover my eyes. I couldn’t even watch Fifty Shades of Gray without blocking my eyes and the fact that my mum was watching it with me. The ceiling never looked so captivating. No matter how old I get, be it 40 or even 70, I will never be able to watch a movie like that with my parents. That s**t’s just plain awkward. "Agh! Gag, I'm going to vomit. Like seriously. All over you, your Louboutin stilettos , 5 thousand dollar show stopper stripper dress and everything. And I won't feel sorry about it. No siree. Not a slither of doubt. Niks, nada, ziltch." I glare at her, giving her perfectly prim face the stink eye for effect. She doesn't bat an eye lash. Gah! She's insufferable! I should have just stayed home. Why did I decide to come to this stupid club with guys groping anything that moves. Yeah, real mature by the way. Not to mention wanna-be hot chicks with their halter neck tops so low that it would seem that they were trying to offer themselves to a God. Yeah s*x God more like it. Oh, kill me now oh wise and powerful one, before I trip 'accidentally' on one of these horny, dare l say 'eager to give up all that's left in them that's holy' to any of these gullible asshats and 'accidentally' drop my half-filled margarita and 'accidentally' take the broken shards of the glass and 'accidentally' slit their throat and ‘accidentally’ stab them 15 times. Yeah a real accident that would be. I'm pretty sure no one would miss them or notice for that matter considering the s**t music is bursting my tympanic membrane of my ear and deafening me willing. Really? Who wants to listen to pop music at a supposedly infamous club hosted by 'trust fund freshly in college - a little too fresh if you ask me, some of the girls drinking look 15 not 21 like their oh so perfectly faked ID claims them to be – party’? This is freaking Alaska! I'm freezing my unmentionables in a baggy sweater, Grey turtleneck and thermal jeggings. Not to mention my thick thigh highs underneath. These girls are either secretly superwoman hiding their identity for fear that I might give them kryptonite or are real good actresses. Yeah definitely the latter. I'm almost certain (ignore my tipsy-ness) that pixie aka Aluna George's doppelganger with her wayyy to short sterling sliver tube dress just grimaced… or was it shivered? Wait...maybe that's her dancing. Hell if I know. My only concern is to get out of this torture house before it'd be too late. But s**t if I wasn't enjoying their torture. As they say revenge is best served cold. And what better temperature than below 0 degrees? Freaking 'negative 2' to be precise.
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