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June 7, 2013 / justinbatalden

A short story (Part One)

I am staring at my ceiling in my bedroom following the hideous white textured paint job that every house seems to have in my apartment complex. To me it is the only thing that can get my mind off the events of the day. With each rough bit of spackle I run my eyes over, they take with them a memory. I take deep breaths trying to slow my heart rate. My heart has been a nusiance all day giving me warnings left and right for a bounding squirrel or a spastic burst of feathers from a startled bird. It also caused me to go to new worlds, that part of my day is what I really want to forget.
So I started to leave all the events behind with my hideous white spackled ceiling. It was working until I ran out of space in the ceiling. I tried to overlap memories but that would just bring that memory out and implant back into my mind.
It started when i woke up this morning, my alarm didn’t wake me up it was my heart that did. My whole body pulsating with every “BA-Dump” that sounded off in my ears, my breath was heavy, my mouth was dry from snoring and lack of water, and my eyes were crusted with dried tears. I didn’t remember crying last night but my dream must of been something sad or incredibly happy, but I believe it was the former option to be true. I haven’t dreamed about something happy since my last relationship, which was 2 years ago.
I stood up from my bed my vision going black, my body still pulsating from each “Ba-dump”. I stumble forward trying to find the nearest wall to let my vision come back to normal. I tripped over a pile of clothes falling over planting my face square onto the wall.



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  1. Gina Ann James Muhs / Jul 21 2013 10:42 PM

    Oh dear.

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