A Love Like War
Mama Mia!
*day after*
"M-Miracle, stop crying!" I begged as the girl wailed in my ear. I had done everything to keep her from crying: changed her diaper, fed her, played with her. Nothing was working. What didn't help was the fact that she was teething. I bounced her up and down in my arms while begging for her to quiet down. I had to finish a History paper in a few hours, so I could get a grade for it, but Miracle wasn't letting that happen. I groaned and heaved; I needed this to stop. I couldn't be home alone with a baby while trying to finish school. It was too damn hard! Jack was always out either, working, hanging out with friends, or playing and practicing lacrosse. I had to sit home and play mommy and daddy while trying to finish up my senior year for the second time.
I finally decided that I would just lay her down and cry herself to sleep. As much as it hurt me, I couldn't stop her from crying any other way. It had to be done. I set her down in the crib and looked at her pathetically. "I-I'm sorry, but I have to do this, so daddy can get work done." She screamed and cried in return. I turned away and returned to my room. I pulled my laptop out and proceeded to work on my paper.
I was an hour into my paper, and still, Miracle was crying. I had gotten barely any of my paper done, and it was due in three hours. I was fucking screwed. I clawed at my head, wanting something to keep me calm. At the corner of my eye, I noticed a stray pack of Jack's old cigarettes. My eyes pinned to them in wonder. Should I smoke? Should I actually use a cigarette to calm my nerves from all this stress? I didn't think it would hurt; I mean, I would only use one. I hopped from the bed to make my way over to the shelf. I pulled the box up to my face and stared at it.
I wasn't actually doing this. This had to be a dream. I pulled out the long, white and orange stick from the box. I took the lighter, that was beside it, and lit the stick up. Slowly, I pressed it to my lips and inhaled. The smoke bombarded my mouth, and I immediately began to gag. The smoke was released into the air when I did, but the feeling it gave me was relaxing -- peaceful even. I took another puff, finally getting the hang of it. I let it out through my nostrils, watching as smoke rings wrapped around me in a smoky hug.
I laid down on the bed and continued to inhale the smoke. I was feeling on top of the world; it felt great. So great that I went downstairs, grabbed a bottle of Jack from Jack's fridge, and had at it. I rested against the kitchen floor, smoking up all of Jack's past cigarettes, and chugging down the tart yet sweet Jack.
"M-Miracle, stop crying!" I begged as the girl wailed in my ear. I had done everything to keep her from crying: changed her diaper, fed her, played with her. Nothing was working. What didn't help was the fact that she was teething. I bounced her up and down in my arms while begging for her to quiet down. I had to finish a History paper in a few hours, so I could get a grade for it, but Miracle wasn't letting that happen. I groaned and heaved; I needed this to stop. I couldn't be home alone with a baby while trying to finish school. It was too damn hard! Jack was always out either, working, hanging out with friends, or playing and practicing lacrosse. I had to sit home and play mommy and daddy while trying to finish up my senior year for the second time.
I finally decided that I would just lay her down and cry herself to sleep. As much as it hurt me, I couldn't stop her from crying any other way. It had to be done. I set her down in the crib and looked at her pathetically. "I-I'm sorry, but I have to do this, so daddy can get work done." She screamed and cried in return. I turned away and returned to my room. I pulled my laptop out and proceeded to work on my paper.
I was an hour into my paper, and still, Miracle was crying. I had gotten barely any of my paper done, and it was due in three hours. I was fucking screwed. I clawed at my head, wanting something to keep me calm. At the corner of my eye, I noticed a stray pack of Jack's old cigarettes. My eyes pinned to them in wonder. Should I smoke? Should I actually use a cigarette to calm my nerves from all this stress? I didn't think it would hurt; I mean, I would only use one. I hopped from the bed to make my way over to the shelf. I pulled the box up to my face and stared at it.
I wasn't actually doing this. This had to be a dream. I pulled out the long, white and orange stick from the box. I took the lighter, that was beside it, and lit the stick up. Slowly, I pressed it to my lips and inhaled. The smoke bombarded my mouth, and I immediately began to gag. The smoke was released into the air when I did, but the feeling it gave me was relaxing -- peaceful even. I took another puff, finally getting the hang of it. I let it out through my nostrils, watching as smoke rings wrapped around me in a smoky hug.
I laid down on the bed and continued to inhale the smoke. I was feeling on top of the world; it felt great. So great that I went downstairs, grabbed a bottle of Jack from Jack's fridge, and had at it. I rested against the kitchen floor, smoking up all of Jack's past cigarettes, and chugging down the tart yet sweet Jack.
Notes
this is short but shocking chapter. alex whatchu doing
xoxo krys
Wow that story was amazing. It was so shocking.
5/19/16