Post by ant1s0c1alk1d on Aug 28, 2006 21:56:11 GMT -5
I wasn’t always this way, a liar, a cheat, a supreme bitch from the nether regions of hell. At one time in my life, I believe I was almost angelic to the point of belonging in a monastery. Its strange how the slightest tick in one’s life can forever alter their personality and change them from Dolly Do-Right to the Goddess I had become. Thinking back, I pity the fool who created me. No, you mindless listeners, not my parents, although I loathe them most in this world. The fool who turned my heart to stone was the man who robbed me of my innocence….the man who decided it was far too entertaining to take a helpless young girl from the streets, shower her with gifts, slip her a few narcotics, then ravage her body like a cheap whore only to toss her to the streets again. I blame you, rapist who was never caught….your selfish deed unto me did more than just scar me forever, leaving me without a trace of dignity; you evolved me in a way I could never thank you for. Because of that one night I played the victim, I became the deviant. Because you took my soul when you forced yourself into me repeatedly….I became a masochist. I was a child…innocent, fragile, and humble. Now all that is left is a shell of a woman with an ego the size of her female libido. I’m a glutton for punishment. “The Empress” of Self-mutilation. Not the cutting that teenage dramatists perform, the type of self-mutilation which involved numerous narcotics to help me forget the pain and random sex that helped me feel the pain again….masochism at its best…..
I reached across the table for my cigarette pack as she glared at me through those envy green tinted sunglasses she wore on the inside. She had come far too early this morning for me to even give a rat’s ass about her view on my lifestyle. I didn’t dare wash the scent of booze and sex from my body. After all, thou shalt not lie to thy mother and father…right?
“Well? Are we going to get this over with or do I need to set aside another hour of my precious time for you to waste?”
She sighed as she watched me take the baby pink lighter from my pocket and strike it quickly, engulfing the end of my cigarette in a bright orange flame before quickly extinguishing itself once again as I released my finger from the button to the lighter fluid.
Elizabeth Sanders –Mother-: “I hope you realize the risks you are taking by continuing that filthy habit of yours. Not only are you destroying your own lungs, but the lungs of those you care about around you.”
The smoke I had inhaled rolled out in a slow cloud towards her as I narrowed my eyes in pure disgust. My mother, the child psychologist, ladies and gentleman. The most influential piece of sh*t in the history of my life. Not only did she find something wrong with every aspect of my life, but she also had taken it upon herself during my childhood to set aside her motherly duties to ensure her career never dipped below stardom. Round of applause…
“There isn’t a soul around me right now that I care about.”
Which was entirely true, for it was only she and I in the living room of my studio apartment in the quaint little mountain suburb of Las Vegas. She sighed again, I hated her sighs, because they only meant that she was thinking of more ways to knock me off of my high horse.
Elizabeth Sanders: “Your father and I are concerned about you, Shane. This antisocial behavior is leading us to believe that you are developing a narcissistic personality. We….know about some of the things you have done, and we are just going to let you know that we can ignore all of them. But only if you make us one promise, Shane. Please, get your life in control before it consumes you. You are still young, and you’ve had such a difficult life…”
I held up my hand to silence her. Right now, I didn’t need her petty comments about how my life was so difficult. I already knew it was difficult. It was difficult to the point that I was infatuated with making it more of a wreck. That’s what masochists do….they thrive on the pain….
“Look, ma, I really appreciate you coming by to give me the usual “Shane, you are f*cking up your life once again” speech. But I really have better things to do than to listen to you beg me to reduce myself to your level.”
Elizabeth Sanders: “Fine, if you want to act like an ignorant child, than by all means, Shane, do so. Let us not forget what happened last time you let your bullheadedness control you.”
“Mother! Stop with the empty threats! Every time I make a big decision in my life you rush over here in a huff to try to protect me. Where were you when I needed you all those years of my life? Stop trying to be my friend and the mother you never were and just leave…”
She stood, her purse gripped in her hand as she simply glared at me. I knew deep down somewhere inside my heart I should feel a bit guilty for giving her so much hell, but I really couldn’t find that part of me at this moment. I watched her carefully as she looked deep into my eyes for the daughter she once had…
Elizabeth: “You are desperate and in need of human contact.”
I scoffed then followed it quickly with a laugh as she turned for the door. I sat back against the couch, the smoke rolling from the cigarette that had nearly burned my fingers for during my rage I had forgotten about it. The door slammed shut, although I did not stir in the sharpness of the noise. It was the typical way people left my apartment or any other room I shared with them. For some reason, I had a knack for making people hate me, yet they always came crawling back, begging me to “just see the light.” I don’t know why I enjoyed causing myself and others so much pain, I guess it was just something deep inside of me that linked back to that faithful night. I stood shaking my hair, freeing myself of the thoughts of my mother once again as I heard a door slowly open towards the far side of my apartment. I gazed through the early morning light, my eyes still not fully adjusted to the light, to see her walk out, dressed barely in anything at all. Her hair was a mop of curls, tangled from a wild night, her body slim, toned, curvy. She was utterly breathtaking. It was a shame she’d be gone in a few hours once I was done with her.
Girl: “Who was that?”
“My mother, but she is gone now.”
Girl: “Still trying to run your life?”
“As if she visits me for any other reason.”
I walked to her, taking her in my arms, feeling her breasts press against mine as we shared a deep kiss. She backed away slowly.
Girl: “Once more before you leave me?”
I shook my head negatively.
“I’m hardly in the mood. I left you cab fare on the coffee table.”
She stared at me as blankly as my mother had while I ranted. She bowed her head in a sulk as I pushed passed her for the warmth of my own bed. I could hear her muttering beneath her breath as she quietly gathered her things. Something about me being a sociopath…a bitch….a user and an abuser…Perhaps she was right. Perhaps my mother was right. Maybe my life was a bit out of control. Whatever had become of the innocent Shane Sanders?
I reached across the table for my cigarette pack as she glared at me through those envy green tinted sunglasses she wore on the inside. She had come far too early this morning for me to even give a rat’s ass about her view on my lifestyle. I didn’t dare wash the scent of booze and sex from my body. After all, thou shalt not lie to thy mother and father…right?
“Well? Are we going to get this over with or do I need to set aside another hour of my precious time for you to waste?”
She sighed as she watched me take the baby pink lighter from my pocket and strike it quickly, engulfing the end of my cigarette in a bright orange flame before quickly extinguishing itself once again as I released my finger from the button to the lighter fluid.
Elizabeth Sanders –Mother-: “I hope you realize the risks you are taking by continuing that filthy habit of yours. Not only are you destroying your own lungs, but the lungs of those you care about around you.”
The smoke I had inhaled rolled out in a slow cloud towards her as I narrowed my eyes in pure disgust. My mother, the child psychologist, ladies and gentleman. The most influential piece of sh*t in the history of my life. Not only did she find something wrong with every aspect of my life, but she also had taken it upon herself during my childhood to set aside her motherly duties to ensure her career never dipped below stardom. Round of applause…
“There isn’t a soul around me right now that I care about.”
Which was entirely true, for it was only she and I in the living room of my studio apartment in the quaint little mountain suburb of Las Vegas. She sighed again, I hated her sighs, because they only meant that she was thinking of more ways to knock me off of my high horse.
Elizabeth Sanders: “Your father and I are concerned about you, Shane. This antisocial behavior is leading us to believe that you are developing a narcissistic personality. We….know about some of the things you have done, and we are just going to let you know that we can ignore all of them. But only if you make us one promise, Shane. Please, get your life in control before it consumes you. You are still young, and you’ve had such a difficult life…”
I held up my hand to silence her. Right now, I didn’t need her petty comments about how my life was so difficult. I already knew it was difficult. It was difficult to the point that I was infatuated with making it more of a wreck. That’s what masochists do….they thrive on the pain….
“Look, ma, I really appreciate you coming by to give me the usual “Shane, you are f*cking up your life once again” speech. But I really have better things to do than to listen to you beg me to reduce myself to your level.”
Elizabeth Sanders: “Fine, if you want to act like an ignorant child, than by all means, Shane, do so. Let us not forget what happened last time you let your bullheadedness control you.”
“Mother! Stop with the empty threats! Every time I make a big decision in my life you rush over here in a huff to try to protect me. Where were you when I needed you all those years of my life? Stop trying to be my friend and the mother you never were and just leave…”
She stood, her purse gripped in her hand as she simply glared at me. I knew deep down somewhere inside my heart I should feel a bit guilty for giving her so much hell, but I really couldn’t find that part of me at this moment. I watched her carefully as she looked deep into my eyes for the daughter she once had…
Elizabeth: “You are desperate and in need of human contact.”
I scoffed then followed it quickly with a laugh as she turned for the door. I sat back against the couch, the smoke rolling from the cigarette that had nearly burned my fingers for during my rage I had forgotten about it. The door slammed shut, although I did not stir in the sharpness of the noise. It was the typical way people left my apartment or any other room I shared with them. For some reason, I had a knack for making people hate me, yet they always came crawling back, begging me to “just see the light.” I don’t know why I enjoyed causing myself and others so much pain, I guess it was just something deep inside of me that linked back to that faithful night. I stood shaking my hair, freeing myself of the thoughts of my mother once again as I heard a door slowly open towards the far side of my apartment. I gazed through the early morning light, my eyes still not fully adjusted to the light, to see her walk out, dressed barely in anything at all. Her hair was a mop of curls, tangled from a wild night, her body slim, toned, curvy. She was utterly breathtaking. It was a shame she’d be gone in a few hours once I was done with her.
Girl: “Who was that?”
“My mother, but she is gone now.”
Girl: “Still trying to run your life?”
“As if she visits me for any other reason.”
I walked to her, taking her in my arms, feeling her breasts press against mine as we shared a deep kiss. She backed away slowly.
Girl: “Once more before you leave me?”
I shook my head negatively.
“I’m hardly in the mood. I left you cab fare on the coffee table.”
She stared at me as blankly as my mother had while I ranted. She bowed her head in a sulk as I pushed passed her for the warmth of my own bed. I could hear her muttering beneath her breath as she quietly gathered her things. Something about me being a sociopath…a bitch….a user and an abuser…Perhaps she was right. Perhaps my mother was right. Maybe my life was a bit out of control. Whatever had become of the innocent Shane Sanders?
I can't escape this hell So many times I've tried
But I'm still caged inside
Somebody get me through this nightmare
I can't control myself
Someone if you can see
The dark inside of me
Noone would ever change this animal I have become
Help me believe, It's not the real me
Somebody help me tame this animal
But I'm still caged inside
Somebody get me through this nightmare
I can't control myself
Someone if you can see
The dark inside of me
Noone would ever change this animal I have become
Help me believe, It's not the real me
Somebody help me tame this animal
