HumanConstellation

"What's your name, sugar?" His voice smacked me in the face like a flyswatter that had missed its target and it filled the room with a processed honey sound, bitter and expired. My lips stayed tight and I focused intently on a large, dark spot on the floor, refusing to give him any sort of sick satisfaction. A subtle and breathy chuckle escaped his lips and he began running his icy fingers along my cheek. I could feel his smirk as I pulled away, disgusted. He kneeled down in front of me. "Not a problem. We don't have to talk yet." Dark spot. Floor. Focus. "Until then, however," he continued, "I've gotta think of something to call you, rig

Darkness. Utter, complete darkness. The only thing I could register as I came to. I could see nothing until I tilted my head to see behind me,where there was a rectangular outline of yellow light. The more in-touch I became with my surroundings, the more my other senses could catch up to my sight, making up for what it had missed. My hips and shoulders sank into a semi-soft mattress, which my wandering hands found to be twin-sized. I was beneath only a thin sheet and my clothing, which felt nothing like the t-shirt and Ohio State shorts in which I'd fallen asleep. Distracting me, my nostrils filled with an unpleasant combination of scents;

One doesn't think about the preciousness of life until one is faced with losing it. Humans--at least a great many of us--are obsessed with gaining attention. And whether it be through talent or through misery, we seek it out. Desperate for anyone to listen, most exaggerate our pain and what makes our lives so horrible. Drinking, smoking, cutting, gambling, partying, fucking; we do anything to make it better, sometimes simply causing more attention to be focused on us, worried faces and voices of the ones who say they love us. This is a driving force that begs us to continue abusing ourselves. It isn't until you are pulled away from the beau