awesome-weird-stuff-blog

[awesome-weird-stuff-blog]

just a story

‘hahaha!’ The boy on the bed laughed at the girl, who was laying on the rug in front of him. ‘You are actually insane.’ He grinned, and she laughed with him. Quickly though, her laugh changed to a more serious face. ‘Definitely.’ She said, in a much calmer voice. There was a silent pause. That had sounded way to serious for his liking. He knew she hadn’t had the easiest life, parents divorced and all. She was always quite happy, although she complained about being tired a lot. The girl laid silently on the matrass, saying nothing. ‘You okay?’ He asked eventually, not sure what to do. ‘Just tired...’ She said, as always. Something was off, very off. ‘Have a lot to do tonight...’ She sighed again, implying it was time he left. ‘are you sure your alright?’ He asked again, worried. The girl stayed silent, sighing deeply. ‘Nah. But I will be, don’t worry.’ She sat up straight now, and gave him a big smile. Normally, that smile would have been, well... normal. Now it wasn’t, tears were forming in her eyes. ‘Hey... what’s up? You can tell me...’ He said, completely surprised by the sudden change in tone. ‘Like I said, just tired of everything...’ The girl didn’t look him in the eye anymore, and nervously plucked the pillow she pressed against her. ‘what’s making you tired?’ He asked. ‘Everything. Home. Friends. School. Myself.’ She answered, her voice getting louder and more upsetting. She meant what she said, it sounded... deep. ‘it is that busy then?’ He asked, still not sure of what to do. ‘No. that’s the problem. It’s probably just me.’ She answered. ‘is at home everything alright then?’ He never asked after her home, she never talked about it either. A sarcastic laugh followed, again her whole demeaner changed. From the warm, loving and bubbly person she always was, she had changed to a cold, and sarcastic... perhaps even bitter. ‘It never is.’ ‘because of the divorce. Or?’ he asked, now getting really worried. ‘But you don’t have to worry about that. I’m used to it. Just need some time to calm down and stuff...’ She said, grabbing her phone. The boy sighed. Talking to her when she was feeling tired always ended up with her cutting of the conversation. She enjoyed listening much more then, but this time it bothered me. He was her friend for goodness sake. ‘Why do you always push people away when your tired?’ he asked, an accusing tone came through her voice. ‘Because it’s better that way.’ She sounded very angry suddenly. ‘What do you mean?’ He asked, getting upset as well. ‘Because I am like a grenade, damn it!’ She shouted at him, her hands were nervously fidgeting around. ‘IF you care to much about me, your going to feel with me and that is not a thing anyone should want.’ She said, tears were starting to well up in her eyes again. ‘again... you’re not making any sense, I am your friend.’ He answered. ‘Yeah. And it good the way it goes. It’s helping no one if you go and worry about me the whole time.’ She grabbed her phone again, and put it down. Her hands were shaking. ‘Do I need to worry about you then? I though you were doing fine...’ ‘I’m not doing fine. From even before you met me. But I am used to it. Just need time for myself to get everything settled.’ It was silent for a second as the boy tried to understand. There was something so wrong, and apparently, he had never noticed. ‘I’m sorry... just. So Tired. Usually I’m doing better.’ She apologized, giving him a reassuring smile. But he didn’t believe the smiles anymore. ‘can you tell me? I promise I’ll be... fine’ He said, not sure what she wanted to hear. ‘What do you want to know?’ She finally said, almost with a hopeful smile. ‘What happened... I guess it’s not just you parents divorcing?’ he asked, it was the only sad thing he knew. ‘first, they divorced when I was ten. I just use it as an excuse for when I am sad. Easy answer to give, you know.’ Again, that bitter smile. He sighed, why didn’t he ask further before... ‘A month after they’re divorced, my father was sent for a mission to Afghanistan. In that time, my mother’s father, grandpa... got cancer and died within two months. My father came back from Afghanistan with PTSD and my mother is chronically depressed. I never had a happy home, never had or have a stable home either. My father found after a few girlfriends another wife, who already had two kids. We didn’t really go together. My mother found after a long time of sadness another man, but I didn’t like him. They married anyway. I got depressed, school went bad and did self harm. I have no self-esteem, and have add and I am high sensitive.’ Suddenly a stream of words just blurted out of her mouth. Tears were flowing over her face as she told her whole life under a minute. ‘Fuck.’ The boy just said, not sure what the right words were. ‘what does high sensitive mean?’ He asked then, as the only thing he didn’t understand. ‘Sounds and smells come in twice as hard. No information filters. And I feel people’s emotions a lot stronger. Can see and feel when people are sad or happy... or when they lie. It sucks.’ She said, staring at her feet in front of her. ‘You can see when I lie?’ He asked, a little worried. ‘Yeah. You don’t have a match day Saturday, you just don’t want to go and hang out with Christian.’ The boy shuffled uncomfortably, that was very true, he didn’t really like Christian. It was silent again. ‘Sorry.’ She said in small voice. ‘You have been to so much. I... fuck.’ He said again, lost for words. ‘Don’t you dare pity me.’ She said, tougher voice now. Her eyes were looking angry, straight at him. ‘I don’t. I just... how did you do all that?’ He said, looking back at her. She started crying fully now, tears falling onto her pillow. ‘I don’t even know.’ She answered through the tears. She sat there crying for a minute. ‘come, give me a hug.’ He said, opening his arms. But she didn’t stand up. She sat there, crying louder. She looked up at the bed, the empty bed. ‘why should I? you’re not even real...’ she softly whispered.

[awesome-weird-stuff-blog]

My little Realm

People always said that I have a big imagination. My parents did, and the people that I revealed this strange hobby of mine too. I could sit in my room, doing nothing but walking around and staring in the distance. But in my head, in my head I was the queen of empires, I was fighting monsters and other people, I was riding on green fields or doing magical tricks. In my own realm, I was a hero. A knight. A princess. A wizard. I was free. Many of these stories did not have a real beginning or end, they just were small stories, of adventures or situations. I tried to capture them in a bigger story for many times, but I never stuck to long with the same tale. Always on the move, in different worlds never finishing any of them. It was my escape for many years, and still is. But the more I dove into my realm, the more silent I became. As most children learn, reality isn’t a fairytale of endless adventures. There are no knights and princesses and no magic. Reality disappointed me, so I hid in my own realm, where things could be magical and different. Always a new angle and new solution. The people I made, the people I played weren’t perfect. Often they had been through bad situations, but they grew strong because of it. It was in peril that they showed their strength, their wit and courage. I always hoped I would be like them when I grew up. Someone that people enjoy being around, someone that they look up to. Someone that will be remembered. This will probably be a story like the rest of them. A good beginning, without an end. Because endings mean that the adventure is over, and I don’t like saying goodbye. Sometimes I think that it would be better if I could finish one, and close a realm. Turn back to the real world. But for now, I’ll hide in this little realm of mine

Sorry if the grammar isn’t great. I’m not a native english speaker or writer;)