Don’t be late.

He told me to meet him at seven, and don’t be late. It was an old joint on the bad side of town, between two dark alleyways. A dimly flickering neon sign that was missing a few letters stood above the entrance. The ground was covered in crushed cans, cigarette stubs and fish and chip wrappers.

Inside wasn’t much better; the thick stench of smoke, beer and stale sweat hung in the air. Paint talked off the nicotine yellow walls like dead, scabby skin. The carpet looked as if it had once been red, but was now covered in a weird grey fuzz that stuck to the soles of my boots. The tables were coated in grime and old chewing gum pieces.

My eyes flickered over the room; it was empty apart from myself, the malicious looking barman and a few old drunks half passed-out in the corner.

He was late.

Fighting off the growing sense of dread forming in my stomach, I sat on an empty bar stool, careful to avoid the stare of the barman. Without raising my head I ordered a beer, then sat and waited.

Run.

Run, child.

Faster, faster, faster. Until your legs feel they are going to fall off, until your breath only comes out in tiny, forced gasps, run until your heart beats faster than a drumbeat.

Even when you feel you need to stop, keep running. When you want to stop, go faster.

Wipe the sweat from your forehead, and keep going. You’re nearly there, just a few more minutes. Think about the end, think about whenever you can stop. Think about being able to breathe in so deeply your lungs might explode. Think about the end and then keep going.

When you run, no one will catch you. You are invincible, my child. You are a flicker of light passing by, a glimpse of a shadow on the wall. Run, my child, as fast as your legs can carry you, and they will never find you.

They will try to make you stop, but don’t listen to them. Do not listen to their lies, child, do not believe in their fairy tales. They will deceive you with their smiles and bright eyes. When you see them you will know it is time to go. When they open their mouths, cover your ears and listen to your heartbeat instead. When they come near you, with outstretched fingers and claws, you must run.

Go now, child, leave this place. Follow your heartbeat. Run so they do not catch you. Follow your heartbeat to where it takes you, your feet will show you the way.

You are the flickering flame of a candle, the whisper of the wind in the trees. When they come for you, you will already be gone, like a ghost into the night.

Remember that always, keep it with you like a secret. You are too fast for their tired legs, you are too quick for their lies and traps. They will not catch you, no one can catch you.

So run, child, and never stop.

The Fall

Last night I found an ancient cliff,
So I climbed up to the top,
As I stood on the edge looking down below,
I wondered whether to drop.

To slide off the edge of everything,
Disappear, let all  worries go,
Dive off in one graceful, swift descent,
Close my eyes, as I plummet below.

Silently slipping and fading away,
Like a lone mockingbird taking flight,
And as I thought of all of this,
I stepped forward, and fell into the night.

Please Don’t Leave Pt. 2: Cathy’s View

When she left, it wasn’t easy.

She could still remember the look on Thomas’ face when he found her at the door, suitcase in hand. The way his face crumpled, the way he had to hold onto the bannister for support.

When she’d seen his face, so dejected, so lost, she’d wanted to stay. She’d wanted to protect him from the hell he had to face everyday.

She’d wanted to save Eden too. She was so young, so innocent. She didn’t deserve to live through this.

But she couldn’t stay. She couldn’t live another day waking up to the smell of stale cigarettes, and walking out of her bedroom to find her mum passed out on the floor after another night of getting drunk. She couldn’t live another day of convincing Eden that mummy wasn’t dead, that mummy did care for them. She just couldn’t do it.

So she decided to leave. She’d find an apartment, get a job and save herself some money. She’d build a life for herself, and then when she was ready she’d bring Thomas and Eden into the life she’d built and take them away from the life their mother had destroyed. It was going to be hard, but it needed to be done. She knew Thomas wouldn’t understand at first, but eventually he would get it.

She packed up her backpack with all her belongings and got ready to leave. But Thomas found her on the stairs, just as she was about to slip out. Her brother had always been a light sleeper, and tonight was no exception.

They’d got angry at first, began sniping at each other. He’d tried to beg her to stay, but there was no going back. In her mind, Cathy had already left. He’d been hurt then, as if she was going to walk out and forget about them forever.

She’d realised there was no point in getting angry. She didn’t want Thomas to hate her. She tried to make him understand; and he did, a little.

When she told him she would come back for him and their little sister, she wasn’t lying. She would come back. Just not yet.

As she opened the door and strode out, she looked over her shoulder.

“Don’t miss me too much, little brother,” she’d said, with a half-hearted smile.

“I’ll try,” he had replied, and the sound of his voice made her heart break. She was going to miss his voice, his lopsided smile.

She waved once, making sure to smile, as if she was only going away for a weekend.

As soon as she turned a corner and was out of sight, she stopped and burst into tears. Why did everything have to be so damn hard?

Suddenly a picture of Eden flooded into her mind. Young, sweet Eden. She smiled to herself as she thought of her little sister. She had broken out, and she was going to help her brother and sister break out too. Whatever it took, she was going to do it, for them.

“I’ll come back for you Eden, and everything will be ok,” she whispered to herself, wiping a stray tear from her cheek, “I swear.”

Please Don’t Leave.

“I told you I was leaving.”

I didn’t know what to say to her. I couldn’t think of anything that I could say to make her step away from the door, to stop her from leaving us. So I just stood there, staring at her like an idiot.

“I just can’t take any of this,” she motioned to the chaos of empty bottles and cigarettes scattered around the floor, “anymore. So I’m going.”

“Please, Cathy,” I whispered, finding my voice, “Please don’t go.”

She looked up at me with her pleading brown eyes, eyes so tired and filled with pain. It hurt so much to look at those eyes I had to look away. “I can’t stay here, Thomas. You know that. Why should I stay? What’s here for me?”

“She’ll get better, I swear she will,” I was nearly begging now, nearly on my knees.

She couldn’t leave me. Not now. We’d stuck together all this time, she couldn’t leave me now when I needed her most.

“Oh, for goodness sake Thomas!” she snapped, exasperated, “You know as well as I do mum’s not going to get better! She’s got a serious problem, one that she won’t let us fix. She’s never going to get better.”

I narrowed my eyes. “So you’re just going to give up on her then?”

“She’s given up on herself. Stop kidding yourself. Look at this house. Covered with her cigarette stubs and her empty wine bottles. Because of her stupid drinking problem.”

“So you’re going to leave us instead of trying to help?” my tone was patronising as I glared at her accusingly, “You’re not just going to give up on her. You’re going to give up on me and Eden too. That’s great. Thanks, Cath.”

A tear trickled down her cheek and fell to the floor. “I’m sorry Thomas. I’m so sorry.”

And as those words escaped her lips I knew there was nothing I could do to change her mind. She was leaving.

I wanted to slap her, to strangle her, to scream in her face. I wanted to bury her in my arms and cry with her. My head was sore with my contradicting feelings.

“So this is it,” I said softly, my voice empty of emotion, just tired.

“I guess.”

She laid a hand on my shoulder, and looked at me with her tear-stained face. “I will come back some day, and I’ll take you and Eden away with me. And it will all be okay. I swear.”

Her eyes told me she wasn’t lying. I nodded solemnly and squeezed her hand.

She turned and picked up her backpack, filled with her possessions. Flinging it over one shoulder, she turned and opened the front door.

Just as she was about to step out, she turned back and flashed me a weak smile. “Don’t miss me too much, little brother.”

“I’ll try,” I replied, my voice catching with emotion.

She strode down the path, past our overgrown messy garden, and opened the old broken gate. Then she turned and headed down the street, each step taking her further and further away from me.

She looked back once to wave, and then she turned a corner and she was gone. Just like that, as if she had never really been.

I closed the front door and turned around to see Eden standing in front of me. Her big brown eyes, so alike to Cathy’s, were clouded with fear and confusion.

“Is Cathy going away forever?” she said, on the verge of tears.

As I looked at my little sister, standing there with her lip trembling in the half light of the hallway, I realised how vulnerable she was, and felt a sudden surge of love for her. She was only five. Too young to understand anything, too innocent to understand.

I gathered her into my arms and she buried her head into my shoulder. “Of course not,” I mumbled into her hair, “She’ll come back some day, and everything will be okay.”

“You swear?” she asked, her innocent eyes poring into mine.

I smiled at her, my beautiful little sister. “I swear.”

Rumour

A snake, twisting, turning,
Scales shining as it slides from mouth to mouth,
Words hissed like venom out of its vicious lips,
Changing like Chinese whisper’s as it’s passed along.

The plot thickens,
Drama, disaster, doom,
Seasoned onto this perfect piece of gossip,
And being fed into the mouths of everyone.

The truth, bent, beaten and broken,
Forgotten at the start of the line,
Shadowed by this big, over-powering rumour,
That no-one believes, but everyone spreads.

This Year

This year I’ll be an astronaut,
Soaring through space,
This year I’ll be a car driver,
Winning every race,
This year I’ll be a scientist,
Discovering new things,
This year I’ll be a guitar player,
Strumming on my strings,
This year I’ll be a writer,
Scrawling with a pen,
This year I’ll be a farmer,
Looking after hens,
This year I’ll be a chef,
Cooking tasty meals,
This year I’ll be an artist,
Making paintings look real.
This year I’ll be anything,
That I want me to be,
But this year out of everything,
I think I’ll just be me.

Girl in the Corner

She sits in the corner, alone, a shadow,
A glimpse of a memory, already forgotten,
Flitting away like a leaf in the wind.

She hides in the darkness,
Ignored, unneeded,
No one understands the person she is.

Their eyes slide over her,
Bored, not bothered to see what’s inside,
And she’s left, still sitting in that cold, dark corner,
Waiting for someone to bring her back to the light.

Angry Post

These were my thoughts on October 20, National Gay Suicide Awareness Day. I’m sorry, but I had to write this somewhere. These were my thoughts on that day.

Isn’t it funny that I’m campaigning for Gay Suicide awareness?
Isn’t it funny that there were boys who were so pushed out of their own community because of their sexuality that they felt the only escape was death?
Isn’t it funny that the only pain that could cut deeper than the scorn and the sneers from their peers was a knife?
Isn’t it funny that these guys DIED because people like us laughed at them?
Isn’t it hilarious? Why don’t we all just have a big laugh about it? Big joke, yeah? Funny, funny!

No.

It’s not funny. In the slightest.

These people killed themselves because of us. Because we think we’re absolutely hilarious when we crack a joke about them. because it’s easier to just make fun of them instead of befriend them.
We ruined these people. And all you can do is LAUGH?

I understand pain. Real pain. I know what it feels like to be at the bottom of the world. I know what it feels like to be completely alone.I know what real pain feels like because I’ve felt it first hand.

I refuse to judge or bully someone because it’s the easy way out. Because everyone else is doing it. Follow the crowd, it’s easy. Laugh at their jokes, maybe even crack your own. Because it’s absolutely hilarious to put someone down, isn’t it?
It’s so funny to see someone get so hurt they lose themselves, isn’t it?
It’s just the best laugh when you find out someone committed suicide because people laughed at them, isn’t it?

It was ok for me. I had people around me, who forced me to see light in the world, who helped me recover.

But what happens when everyone’s against you?

It’s hard enough to dig yourself out of your own hole.

It’s even harder when everyone else is digging the hole for you.

That day, I lost a little faith in humanity. I’m still waiting to regain that faith again.

It’s Not

It’s not love if you can let it go,
It’s not Winter if there’s no sign of snow,
It’s not school if it’s never a bore,
It’s not deja-vu if you’ve never seen it before,
It’s not a pencil if it doesn’t have lead,
It’s not a bedroom if it has no bed,
It’s not a friendship if it has hate,
It’s not an early night if you stay up late,
It’s not the whole truth if it’s filled with white lies,
It’s not true happiness if you start to cry,
It’s not red if it comes out green,
It’s not read out well if it’s told by me (: