My Attempt at NaNoWriMo: Part 1

by Rayla

I tried doing NaNoWriMo a couple of years ago, but failed miserably. I figured I would try again since I have a free hour. I will try typing without stopping, regardless of any errors I may make. If I can’t type anymore, I’ll start a new paragraph. WARNING: This may not make sense and may turn out horrible.

She woke up from a dream she couldn’t remember. She didn’t move, trying to remember what she dreamt, she never could. The darkness didn’t feel right. It was cold and the air was humid. She knew she hadn’t left the window open, so she sat in the darkness, eyes wide, trying to remember the day before. As she sat up, she realized the bed didn’t make a sound. It was, instead, hard and cold. She froze. She knew something was wrong. Putting her feet down on the ground the carpet was gone. She stood up and felt around the humid air looking for a wall, a light switch, something. Her heart started to beat…

* * *

I wanted to die yesterday and the day before. I laid in my bed staring at the wall with the picture of a tree. I bought it a few years ago. The tree is black, but the scene around it was bright and colorful. Kids laughing and dancing, their parents watching, sipping from tea cups. It’s a small picture, too small for the large blank wall it hangs on. But I needed it there to make me feel sane again. The large black tree is supposed to remind for me to cheer up and stop hating myself.

* * *

All I could hear was the guard’s heavy breathing behind me. The steps were cold and damp, mushy. I could barely see the other guard in front of me. The lamps they carried kept blinking on and off. The guards had been up and down these stairs so many times, I’m sure they didn’t need the lamps. I wanted to touch the wall to keep myself from tumbling down the steeps steps, but my hands were tied. I wondered if it was really necessary, my frail body could barely harm a fly at this point. When we reached the bottom, the guard’s heavy breathing was muted by moaning, screaming, and crying. The air was humid, but I could feel a chill run through my body. I stopped, I couldn’t catch my breath. I felt a sharp pinch in my back, then the guard behind me grunted. I needed to keep moving, but I frozen. The fear of not knowing what was ahead paralyzed me.

* * *

“I don’t think anyone is ever happy, like, ever,” Katie put out her cigarette on the glass table. She wipes the ashes onto the floor, then digs through her purse looking for her lipstick.

“What do you mean?” Parker asks, hoping no one saw Katie’s rude gesture.

“Everyone complains about everything, constantly. They run to Twitter or Facebook, so they can complain to the entire world about what a horrible life they have. Give me a fucking break. I hate them.”

“Not everyone does it. I don’t.”

“You don’t count. You’re not an annoying fuck, which is why we’re friends,” she finally gives up her search for another cigarette.

“Thank you?” Parker chuckles.

“No, but I’m serious. People are pathetic. Everyone thinks they have it bad when in all actuality they just like the attention. Are you ready?” Katie gets up. Her thin button up shirt bellows in the light breeze.

Well I tried. Maybe I’ll be able to write more tomorrow.

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