Might As Well Be Mute [Jessica's Journal]

[Jessica Pruitte]

((All poetry within Jessica's journal is original poetry by Anna Niece and thus her intellectual property. Please do not use without permission from the author.))

Image courtesy of Tony

[Jessica Pruitte]

I will kill him. That rat-assed Patch is dead. He ruined EVERYTHING.

The words were written with short, angry marks of the ball point pen which ran out on the ‘g’ of everything. Several harsh lines were marked along the top of the page in the new notebook until the ink started to flow again.

So I go out surfing, having a good time, minding my own damn business, and when I get home the fucking house is on fire. FIRE. He’s there, and his jerk-ass friend, so I know they had something to do with it. I don’t know what, but they did something. The point is they were THERE.

I lost everything. My entire life was in that that house, old lady probably won’t forgive me. Or maybe she will. I don’t know. But I’m at the hospital now, had to beg the nurse to go get the notebook from the gift shop since I’m apparently not allowed to leave the room. Which I totally don’t get because I wasn’t even in the house. Anyway, I have to start my poetry all the fuck over again because that got burned up too.

At least someone found my cat and dropped it off. I can’t let Ouch out of the carrier, hospital + sanitation and all that bullshit. This place smells like someone dumped bleach all of over the place. I hate this smell.

Shit, all my clothes.

KILL HIM. He’s dead! DEAD!

I don’t know how to feel. People keep looking in at me, they look, say something, look again, then walk away. Like I can’t see them. UGH!


I can’t smile on queue
Any longer
Aesthetic silhouettes lay
In shards
We make pretend
That the absurd canvas
Is mounted
Stationary mess of the
Surreal
Sculpted to fit our needs
For the latex passion
That rules our hearts
Model your imagination
After the drunken appearance
Of wasted breath

[Jessica Pruitte]

You can tell
just from looking at me
that something is wrong
that the smile I plastered
on my face
is hanging by a thread
that’s gradually becoming
looser every moment
you can tell
that the shine in my eyes
are really unshed tears
and you know
there’s a sadness
to me
that you just cant pierce
that you can never understand


I want to scream so bad! I wish they'd all stop looking at me, like they expect something or like i owe them something.

JUST GO AWAY!

[Jessica Pruitte]

You know what sucks? I mean really sucks? Headaches. Headaches suck. Especially when they spot the vision and crap. I don’t know how to describe it, but damn. Maybe it’s like what that one god felt when the one goddess popped out of his head. I can’t think. It hurts. Maybe those peeping doctors or whatever will give me pills. Drugs. Something to knock me out.

My head feels like it’s going to pop open. Pop off and go bouncing around the hospital.

This isn’t the first time. I don’t know what causes this, but it always goes away. Eventaully. I need to lay down. Or I’d say I need to lay down, except I am laying down.

The words stopped there, scrawled across the page until they were taken up again:

Oh sweet blessed pills. Good night world!

And then further down the page:

Patch and Evan are still dead.

[Jessica Pruitte]

I thought I saw
perfection
when you smiled
at me
letting me know
for one moment
I was the only thing
on your mind.


It's been a minute since I wrote last, and I'm totes okay with that. This whole moving to Vermont thing and ducking hard questions has had my mind at an all time occupied. Of course there's Stephen too. Holy hells that man gets hotter every time I see him. Hotty McHotHAWT. I swear. And every time he smiles... every single time. I can hear my heart stop. It's like dude smiles right into my soul.

Ugh, I feel like a kid. I mean, yes, I am a kid, but this is just... squee. I feel like the personification of a squee.

Best I can do to explain it.

Anyway, this place isn't so bad. There are rules that are annoying, but all in all there's real structure and I'm not totally alone. I mean, yeah the whole alone thing was of my own doing before, but now it's... this is better. Sort of. I still have to dodge the occasional "where do you come from" question, but whatever, my 'parents' are dead. That's all anyone needs to know. That's all I need to remember.

[Jessica Pruitte]

Patch and Evan are still dead if I ever get back out that way. DEAD.

[Jessica Pruitte]

I'm sorry I can’t pretend
or be your baby girl
someone you can look at
and see a better world.
I'm sorry I'm not perfect
someone who is dull
I'm sorry I can’t be the image
of a smiling Barbie doll.
I'm sorry for the words I say
for the thoughts in my mind
I'm sorry I'm not the person
you were hoping to find.
I'm sorry for the way I dress
for the way I style my hair
I'm sorry if you ever thought
I never cared.
I'm sorry for the pain you feel
for the stress of everyday
I'm sorry for the abortion
that never came my way.
I'm sorry for the rain that pours
for the sun that always shines
I'm sorry for all the problems I caused
for the blame is surely mine.
I'm sorry for not smiling
for always looking bad
I'm sorry for all the anger
for making you so mad.
I'm sorry for this poem
for these words I cannot say
I'm sorry for never hoping
for a better yesterday.

[Jessica Pruitte]

So my mom's going through with it. She's really going to sue Hammel. I have NO idea how far she's going to get with it, the school's pretty big. It's definitely got money. I mean, they gotta pay to have the place fixed up if someone loses control and bangs a few things up, and the training rooms are pretty sturdy.

I heard someone say that there was a meta in the basement with the power of Midas or something like that. And that was how the school was paying for everything.

It makes sense.


ANYWAY. Mom is going to make a mess of everything, and ruin everything. And UGH I hate it. I'm in a place, FINALY, where I can just kinda be. I don't have to worry about some random kid burning my house down (I'M LOOKING AT YOU PATCH) and I don't really have to worry about who my dad's bringing home to boink this time. Or who mom's seducing.

So why, even here, do they manage to ruin everything?

I just wanna be happy.

Aparently that's too much to ask.

[Jessica Pruitte]

I love the sound of rain. No, really, it's one of those comforting things that sounds like it's washing everything bad away. I know that's not how it really works, but I can wish, right? Like that song about pretending airplanes in the sky are like shooting stars or something? Everyone needs to be able to wish.

Me especially.

Life ain't really all that great at Hammel right now. Someone decided it would be hysterical to animate a piece of chewed gum and send it in through my ear. People keep fighting, and with winter right around the friggin corner it's getting witches-ass cold. Which means we're more or less indoor bound until things thaw out and we get warmed up again.

In the mean time, that rat-bastard Patch is out in California still living scott-free after what he and his buddy did to my... well the old woman's house. So many people to kill. So little time.

It's not fair.

I can't have my cat.

I can't get my revenge.

I'm still trying to find gum-animator-person.

At least my Unk's in town again. Did I write about that already? No? Well he is. And it's awesome. Pisses my mom off something royal. It's great! Maybe she'll disown me after all. Then I could be Unk's full time and not just every-now-and-then.

I SHOULD probably get to work on some of this homework that's waiting for me, buuuuut I'd rather not. After the Canuck's loss last night.

OMG after such a strong game the other night too. Not fair. I'm telling you the world is just falling apart.

Ugh.

And no Hotty McHotHawt around anymore either. Dude just diappeared. Broke my heart and everything. We had something special. We really did.

He'll come back for me. My Knight in Hawtness Armor.

[Jessica Pruitte]

Christmas is coming and the goose is getting FAT! I don't have to go to the ballet to see The Nutcracker again. I don't have to spend time posturing with mom and dad. No charity events to parade around.

Hammel is so effin awesome! Seriously this place is the BEST.

I get to spend time with Unk, run around in the snow. Drink hot cocoa. Roast marshmallows! Decorate cookies! Do things regular people do! This is so exciting!

Sure this place is ass-cold, but it's soooooo much better than all the other crap.

The only thing that's missing is my Hotty McHotHAWT. I miss his face. And shoulders. And arms. And dat ass! Man he could fill out a pair of jeans for an older guy!