Tomorrow

Furious words invade her mind as she scribble her latest discontent. She imagines breaking every bone in her body with just one fall down the long flight of stairs that leads outside. Each breath she takes cause her to throw more frustration into her hands and onto the faded yellow pages.

If she wasn't so weak, she would be outside searching for new air that might breathe inside of her. Alone in a huge house possessed by darkness, she often drag herself towards any area with light.

She sat at her old desk surrounded by all her books. As the sun dives into the horizon, she pull the handle to the single lamp on the desk. All day her hands keeps scribbling, the left hand then the right hand, words that might mend her or break her.

The lamp flicker once then fade out. She continues in the darkness. Thousands of screams echo in her head, one louder than the other, each fading slowly into stillness until there's a slight blur of memory, greying in her mind.

The lamp flew back on, lighting her thoughts, scattered below and above the blue lines. She try to read them but couldn't make out the odd shapes and long lines. Her head clear of thoughts now had stopped spinning.

Sleep drives her body as she crawls between the sheets. Tomorrow. The word pops into her head. How strange it sounds to her now. Tomorrow will be the day. Tomorrow she will start living again.


Fiction Friday: Write like Fireworks…write fast, write down random thoughts, hurry through it. And don’t even reread it today—you can always come back to it tomorrow.