I open my eyes to the sound of the tik tok on the old hand clock hanging on the wall. The room was still, and almost silent if it wasn't for the seconds going by. That's the thing, nothing stops. Nothing cares, the world will keep moving, people will pass by without even knowing, they'll all be on the high ways drinking coffee while trying to get through rush hour to get back to their office jobs. When I just sit in my room, starring out the window, thoughts going as fast as those people on that high way, I am just there still and silent. I look at my sunset colored cat, sleeping peacefully on the cloud stuffed blanket, next to the only not so cloud pillow. He is so content, so happy in those moments, unaware of the few seconds that only just happened. Only seconds compared to what is left after, of course. I exhale the breathe I was holding, with dragon like smoke following and  flick the ashes away outside the window. I feel calm and dizzy and enjoy it while it lasts. Although I actually don't feel anything, that's why I am here by the only window with my sweet yet numbing cancer stick. 

The buzz fades away as I exquish the embers that were slowly burning away. I look around my room, looking at the mess that I have left. With dirty plates and tons of soda cans, no one even knows. I was doing so well, was making everyone so proud... I can't let them know. I will disappoint them and they will look down on how disgusting I am. They will see all my ugly and gross flaws and they will never see me as the one girl with her head on her shoulders. I glance around the horror of my room and realize everything I've done and light up another cigarette. My hands shake and I feel like everything is moving so slow and like nothing I do even matters. I start to clean up all of the plates and wrappers with some food still caught on them because of their packaging smooshing the gooey insides or with crumbs in them. I shove all the pop cans and napkins, all my worries, fear, and guilt into the trash. As I walk past the bathroom to throw the bag into the bin outside, I go and flush the toilet one more time just to make sure there was no evidence I was even here. No evidence as to what the darkness has done to me. No way for anyone to know how tainted and just how much I am willing to rid of all the pain. 

I smoke the rest of the numbing bland tasting stick of tabcoo and head back inside to put on a sweater to hide the knicks on my knuckles and I smile to cover the pain. I brush my teeth about 3 times to make sure there is no residue and stomach acid left. And repeat when my mother comes home and makes dinner. And at the end of the night, I still feel worthless. I still feel like nothing I do matters and how no one is going to see the pain. I get anxiety when a number is higher than before. I become a pig around candy and instantly regret it when I am done with all of it. I slowly slip right back into the madness I was at a few weeks ago. The agonizing mind set of never being good enough, I become a robot to my own disgusting habits. And at the end of the day, after it is all said and done. I cry an unimagible amount of invisible tears, the hollowness inside becomes my friend. I sit in my room just sitting in silence with nothing but my thoughts and the tiking of the clock on the wall. And as I exhale the next morning, listening to the toking of my life go by, I think to myself... "Hello darkness, my old friend"