Magnetic Jewelry Therapy

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Honest opinions are appreciated, and negatives are valued more than positives, but both are readily accepted and appreciated. Thanks in advance. I know it looks long but it should read pretty fast. While I don't agree with intellectual discrimination, i'm 16 and perhaps this would explain the rudimentary parts. It's an excerpt from my pathetic attempt at literary notoriety (my novel.) Be brutal. Thanks again. __________________________________________________________ Fully clothed, she lowered herself to the floor, letting the glass door close slowly behind her. She was now enclosed in a room inside of a room- as much solitude as possible. Reaching her hand up, she depressed the chrome-plated button that ignited the flurry of water droplets raining from a faucet mounted on the ceiling. She had positioned herself so that only her feet were dampened by the water, and from the outside she knew that no one would be the wiser. The needle pinched as it penetrated the skin, and as though her subconscious demanded a dramatic moment, she depressed the drug slowly into her bloodstream. Within seconds she felt her muscles relax, like a ripple of relief. She zipped the bag, and pushing open the door, she threw it in the corner, its scarce contents rattling inside. She’d have to get more tomorrow. Not enough left for even half a dose. The door shut again, its magnetic latch clicking as it was closed by gravity and loose hinges. Spent, the hypodermic needle slipped from her hand, rolling off her fingertips and clinking on the hard tile. She was numb- completely numb. She felt nothing. But at least she wasn’t in pain. As the warm water fell down, the glass began to fog and she closed her eyes, a certain sense of serenity falling over her. She could hear her own breath over the sound of the water, a magnified, raspy breath that seemed to beat in her ears like a pulse. She could feel herself slipping into an absent, semi-conscious world where no sight existed without noise. She could open her eyes and hear the sound of an individual droplet splatter over the floor. She could isolate a single thread hanging from the distressed bottom of her jeans and see the thousand different colors that could have made it up. When she would close her eyes she would hear the random cacophony of noises around her; water dripping, her breath, the beating of her heart, the sound of a trickling drain; they all came at her at once, colliding like shards of reality in mid-air. Time melted into a mercurial liquid, flowing like sludge, dragging on for undetermined lengths. Her thoughts slowed, the incomplete sentences dragging to take up minutes at a time, her movements in slow motion. Her eyes closed with leaden lids, and she felt as if at any moment she might melt in with the stone itself, lost to the physical reality of things, merely dwelling in the mental aspects of it, deadened. She had nothing to look forward to, nothing to keep her here. She had ruined her relationship with James, had unraveled tedious years of grueling tolerance on his part, all in a matter of five minutes. Her pride wouldn’t let her apologize and a profound lack of humanity enabled her to remain stubborn and unmoving. She had no point to her life. This day had made it painstakingly clear. For well over an hour she sat, fully clothed in the bottom of her shower, submerged in her own thought. She could imagine a world where no one would ever come to find her. No one would wonder where she was or think of how they missed her. The perfect place. Where she was a nobody- a nameless face in the crowd. When she finally felt herself sliding into a fully unconscious state, quickly retreating to a familiar corner of her mind, she sighed. The air was thick with steam from the hot water and her lungs just couldn’t get enough. Her breaths were shallow and seemed pointless and she welcomed her retreat. But at the very last second, before finally stealing into the cavernous spaces of her mind, the door’s seal was broken, the steam hissing out of the shower like a fissure. There, shadowed by the light streaming in from behind him, stood Cameron, his hand still on the door handle, jaw tight, forehead haunted by the slight traces of furrows. Displeasure read easily. Under a normal frame of mind she might have been upset. But now all she could do watch wearily, not protesting, as he shut the water off, kneeled, and hoisted her to her feet, practically dragging her out of the bathroom. She was conscious but not. She was aware, alive. But she was existing in a different place, a different dimension. A gray world with bursts of neon color inside of her eyelids, the hues so pulsing that at times she had to squint them tighter, creasing her lids as if she were staring at the sun. Every sound known to man seemed to fly at her, and like darts she would dodge them- the visible sounds. The wor

Public Comments

1. oh this is great i would like to read on this really pulls you in, you leave things open thats good make syou wanna know who cameron is whos james ect very good
2. aaaaahhhhhhhh sounds like a junkie