Untitled free writing (ooh I made a post!)
My first attempt at free writing - 20 mins, no planning, just the first line "After the door shuts and the footsteps die...". Oh and no editing (eep!)
I've attempted to put this behind a cut, but am notoriously n00b at LJ posting stuffs. If it doesn't work someone want to give me a hint?
After the door shuts and the footsteps die I rest my forehead against the panelled wood, breathe deeply and slowly sink to my knees.
It’s over. I close my eyes and finally allow myself the small tremors that have been threatening all day. They grow until I’m curled in on myself, the top of my head firmly pressed against the door, my jaw clamped shut as I try to keep myself still.
This will pass soon. I have to tell myself that. I know it’s true, but I still have to tell myself every time. It was a good night: I tell myself that too and hope that in a couple of hours I will remember that it was a good night. The highs have their price, but they are worth it. They are.
My stomach rebels with a deep shiver that sends bile to the back of my throat. I lurch up and stumble a few steps, the world reeling around me until my stomach stills enough that the carpet looks inviting again and I sink to sit on the kitchen tiles.
The club was fun. There was drink and wild dancing. Euphoric leaping to not much more than a beat, any lyrics lost between the roar of the music and the movements of my body.
My muscles tense of their own accord and I wince in something close to pain. I’m cold. That makes it worse. It’s time to do something about this. I pull myself, slowly, gently, to my feet, the drawer I lean on protesting weakly. I stay hunched, closed in on myself and think carefully of each step. A glass of water. A few sips and I’m ready to throw it right back up into the kitchen sink. I wait for the feeling to subside a little and force down another two sips.
There was someone there. Someone good. Someone good enough to see me home. Someone good enough to only look at me with confusion.
She was beautiful. I think of her as I shuffle my way towards the stairs. As I pass the hooks in the hall I take down a coat, wrap it around my shoulders. It doesn’t stop the shakes, but it makes them less tense, less painful than when I’m cold.
She was beautiful. She moved like a snake, all hips and stroking hands, eyes closed at a distance. I never thought... We met at the bar. She complimented me on my dancing and that look... I did the same, asked her what brought her there. We danced together.
The stairs are almost enough to make me cry. I’m dizzy, every movement balanced precariously, muscles twitching of their own volition. I make it up the stairs. The bathroom. Bedroom.
We left together. She saw me home, was concerned at the way I was in the taxi. I tried to brush it off and accepted the look of confusion with gratitude.
Bed. I tense and shake. Sleep comes in snatches at best. But when it does it shows me her body and I wake to her message.
“Had a great night. See you soon.”
I've attempted to put this behind a cut, but am notoriously n00b at LJ posting stuffs. If it doesn't work someone want to give me a hint?
After the door shuts and the footsteps die I rest my forehead against the panelled wood, breathe deeply and slowly sink to my knees.
It’s over. I close my eyes and finally allow myself the small tremors that have been threatening all day. They grow until I’m curled in on myself, the top of my head firmly pressed against the door, my jaw clamped shut as I try to keep myself still.
This will pass soon. I have to tell myself that. I know it’s true, but I still have to tell myself every time. It was a good night: I tell myself that too and hope that in a couple of hours I will remember that it was a good night. The highs have their price, but they are worth it. They are.
My stomach rebels with a deep shiver that sends bile to the back of my throat. I lurch up and stumble a few steps, the world reeling around me until my stomach stills enough that the carpet looks inviting again and I sink to sit on the kitchen tiles.
The club was fun. There was drink and wild dancing. Euphoric leaping to not much more than a beat, any lyrics lost between the roar of the music and the movements of my body.
My muscles tense of their own accord and I wince in something close to pain. I’m cold. That makes it worse. It’s time to do something about this. I pull myself, slowly, gently, to my feet, the drawer I lean on protesting weakly. I stay hunched, closed in on myself and think carefully of each step. A glass of water. A few sips and I’m ready to throw it right back up into the kitchen sink. I wait for the feeling to subside a little and force down another two sips.
There was someone there. Someone good. Someone good enough to see me home. Someone good enough to only look at me with confusion.
She was beautiful. I think of her as I shuffle my way towards the stairs. As I pass the hooks in the hall I take down a coat, wrap it around my shoulders. It doesn’t stop the shakes, but it makes them less tense, less painful than when I’m cold.
She was beautiful. She moved like a snake, all hips and stroking hands, eyes closed at a distance. I never thought... We met at the bar. She complimented me on my dancing and that look... I did the same, asked her what brought her there. We danced together.
The stairs are almost enough to make me cry. I’m dizzy, every movement balanced precariously, muscles twitching of their own volition. I make it up the stairs. The bathroom. Bedroom.
We left together. She saw me home, was concerned at the way I was in the taxi. I tried to brush it off and accepted the look of confusion with gratitude.
Bed. I tense and shake. Sleep comes in snatches at best. But when it does it shows me her body and I wake to her message.
“Had a great night. See you soon.”