I wrote this a few minutes ago. This more or less describes some Saturdays that I have. It has a James Frey / Million Little Pieces feel to it. The writing is similar to his, although as far as personal stories go, I've been writing like that since before I read his book. It was interesting to see how much I write like he does. Anyway, this is probably the first time I've submitted anything other than lyrics here in the Writers Cove. Comments are appreciated. Thanks. - - - Saturday. I wake up. It's 7:03. Fucking 7:03. I didn't sleep well. I'm as exhausted as I was the night before. I try to fall asleep again. Doesn't work. Too distracted. I'm thinking about Alex again. 8:00. I get out of bed. Pointless to try to fall back asleep. Go to the bathroom. Wash my hands. Come back, turn on the computer, get online. No one's on. Check my e-mail. No e-mails. I open iTunes. Put on Franz Ferdinand. I like that band. I'm still thinking about Alex. No one's awake. Taking a shower would wake everyone up. I stay on the computer. 'Auf Achse' starts playing. I relate to it. I think even more about Alex. My mom wakes up. I hear open and close the cabinets downstairs. I hear the cereal falling into the bowl. She's eating. John wakes up later. He pulls out his Game Boy Micro. He starts playing. I can hear the music of it from my room. Loud little bastard. I put up an away message. It's time to take a shower. I get undressed. I get in. I sit a few minutes. I enjoy the warm water on my hands. I enjoy it. I stand up, turn on the shower. The water comes off as cold, but it gets warm. It's not warm enough. I turn the notch an inch. I feel the burn. It shocks me. It hurts. Badly. I like it. A few minutes go by. I've been standing for a few minutes. I think about Alex. I can't stop thinking about her. Finally, I get the shampoo. It feels cold on my hand. I don't like it. I rub it in my hair. I wash off the soap off my hands. My hands are hot again. I like it. I wash the soap out of my hair. The soap runs across my face. I forget to close my eyes. The soap gets in them. 'Fuck'. It hurts like a motherfucker. I put pressure on my eyes. It burns. It burns like a motherfucker. 5 minutes later, the burn is gone. It hurts to blink. The water's getting colder. I turn the nob another few inches. The water burns my skin more than the soap burned my eyes. I can stand it. I like it. I get the sponge and put soap on it and soak it. I start rubbing it all over my body. I don't feel so dirty anymore. I wash it off. The burn is still there. In my eyes. All over my body. I hate the burn in my eyes. I love the burn on my skin. I stand there an extra 10 minutes, turning the nob whenever the water feels cooler. I turn off the water. I get out and put my robe on. I dry myself and get dressed. I get back on the computer. Alex is online. Rachel is online too. I take my away message off. I'm tempted to instant message them. I want to see if they instant message me first. I get on the internet and check my e-mail again. One new spam message. I delete it. 20 minutes later. They haven't instant messaged me. I give in to my temptation. I instant message both of them. They're both upset. Rachel is confrontational. Her sarcasm hurts. I deal with it. We stop talking. I try to help Alex. She's ignorant. I feel helpless. My feelings hurt me. I try to deal with it. We continue to talk. I cheer her up. Rachel signs off. Alex signs off. Time for breakfast. It's noon. Too late. My mom wants to go out to lunch. I comb my hair. I put on my jacket. I put up an away message. We leave. We eat lunch. My brother provokes me. I ruin lunch. Again. We go home. My mother's upset with me. She calls me an angry child. My brother mocks me. I hate him. I get back on my computer. Alex is online again. Rachel's online, but she's away. Alex instant messages me. She's in a better mood. >> LOUIS! "Hello. How are you?" >> I'm fantastical. You? "Good, I'm glad to hear it. I'm not so good." >> What's up? "I got into a fight with my mom." >> Oh dear. The conversation goes on. I explain the argument. >> I'm sorry. I don't know what to tell you. "It's fine. Don't worry about it." We continue talking. I try to change my mood. It doesn't work. She has to go. She leaves. I sit on the computer. "Fuck." I have homework to finish. I get it out. I finish it. I'm bored. I have nothing to do. Nick gets online. We talk. We make plans. I put up my away message. I go over to his house. His house feels more like home to me than my own. I sit down. I make myself comfortable. He brings me a glass of water with Ice. I don't like the ice, but I thank him anyways. We don't do much. We talk. It feels nice. Alex is brought up. His parents are home. I don't want to talk about it near them. We go for a walk. It's cold. A long-sleeve shirt and a jacket aren't enough. I shake. I hate the cold. I hate it. I can never feel warm. I feel alone. But he's with me. We talk. My feelings for Alex are what we talk about. I feel terrible. He seems indifferent, but he listens. He tells me he's sorry. I say I'll deal with it. He tells me things will be okay. I tell him that I hope so. He says they will be. We walk back. I enter his house. The warm floods me. I enjoy it. I don't want to take off my jacket. I enjoy the heat. Fuck you, cold air. Fuck you. The feeling in the air lightens. The air doesn't feel as tight. We start talking about funny things. We laugh. We enjoy ourselves. It's a good time. We play on his game system. We watch "Reno 911". We laugh some more. I enjoy myself. He does too. It's time to go. I start thinking about Alex again. I feel sad. Nick hugs me and tells me everything will be okay. I say I hope so. He says they will be. The hug gets even tighter. I thank him. We say good night. I leave and I get into the car. My mom asks me how it was. I say it was good. The ride is near silent. The radio disturbs me. My mom wants it on. I try to ignore it. We get home. I thank my mom. I head up to my room and I take off my away message. Alex isn't online. Rachel is. Rachel's in a better mood. She instant messages me. We talk. She apologizes about before. I lie to her and tell her I'm fine. We have a better conversation. She signs off. I sign off. I go to bed. It's 11:30. I lay there. I think about Alex. I recall when she and I met. I remember when I started feeling this way about her. I remember Homecoming. I remember our conversations. I remember the times we spent together. I remember how much I enjoyed it. I remember her smile. Her laugh. I smile at the thought. The smile goes away quick. I can't stop thinking about her. I want her now. I need her now. It's 11:58. I begin to doze off. The black of the room gets even blacker. I begin to feel heavy. The thought goes away. She lingers. She's gone. 11:59. I close my eyes. I fade. Sunday.
At first, I though I'd probably stop reading it in less than 10 seconds, but I actually found this very interesting and read it all the way through. It's very grabbing and keeps your attention. Good work.
I'm gonna be honest, I love it. I totally relate to pretty much everything in there. Good job Louis! I love it.