The Wrong Thing to Imagine, Part 1

The Wrong Thing to Imagine, Part 1



                Shhh…. You have to read in a lower tone.  In any moment, don’t turn your head. Make sure your eyes don’t leave this page….

         You must read what I have written…. I wrote it especially for you… First question, are you alone? I was…. In the past few moments I was.  So lonely I was. But now I’m safe, myself dangles from someplace high. STOP! Don’t think about it! If you do, it is sure to happen to you too.

              It’s not what you think, it’s the least thing to imagine, if it is what you have thought of. My main concern revolves around telling you my story. There’s nothing like it, my blood rushes through my veins, that once pumped through my working heart. I need to cough it up and spit it out like a bitter taste of disgrace. If you let me, I will tell you my story. Then, shall you learn that something’s are best to leave to people who can control their imagination…



              I told you…  Now I shall remind you, that I am alone. In my small box, it would have soon became something of terror and misery. I was left alone in my ancient 2-floored apartment. 2 floor? Make no mistake, my parents owned 2 floors of a 30 floored apartment building. They weren’t rich folks like the people in L.A, but they owned enough money to go on vacations every two months. Even proud enough to leave me, their 14-year old daughter behind.

         I guess, it wasn’t their problem but my own. The place was filled with things for me to do, but my patience was limited too small for me to set up anything for my pleasure. So instead, I roamed through the hallways and inner rooms of the apartment. In search of nothing in particular, just to have something to do. Tired of myself and my massive collect of boredom, I walked down the stairwell and into my apartment again, to my current room, within the door’s of the hallway. All the way at the end of the hallway, a mahogany, none-chipped door stood in front of me. Calling to me…

         I accepted it’s call and walked past, leaving the door open. Easily so some stranger can accidentally come upon the floor, and see something pretty to grab. I didn’t care though. In order to get on the floor using the elevator you needed a key. Otherwise, you can press the button to this floor and end up on another. The stair’s weren’t any better. The only people that had a key were my parents and me, and occasionally the maids who came to clean. Their key’s were disposable however, and so they needed to put it in the trash, every time they had finished their job. The same maid was never hired again. Everything required a key…

         Slumping on the neatly placed pillows, I started to sink into the sheets. A window hung next to my bed, which beyond it hung the sun. The sunlight attacked my skin with it’s heat, which soon was reflected back because of my skin. I became drowsy, and was put under it’s spell. The warmness gave me my own pleasure, and my eyes slowly closed, as I drifted off into my mind‘s hidden insanity.