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Almost

https://youtu.be/QdI3zKfUUX8

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Letter 7 The Ambulance

August 7th 2003

Dear …

I always get a bit anxious when its weekends or half terms, I know most of my friends will be going on holiday or sometimes going out somewhere nice. But sometimes I have to sit in with my brothers, and mums finding it hard to wake up and my step dads filling the downstairs up with smoke. It would have been nice to stay with dad this weekend but he’s on a fun weekend away with a girl he has been talking to over msn.

11am

Mums still asleep on the sofa and we’ve been told its best to stay upstairs until everyone is awake.

3pm

Its been a bit of a boring day and mum went out an hour ago, step dad came up stairs to see if we had seen her, my youngest brothers climbing onto the top bunk and swinging off the bars.

7pm

We’ve spent most of the afternoon playing upstairs and watching Mr Bean but I really want to go home now but dad isn’t picking up the phone or replying to my messages. Dad gave me an emergency mobile phone when I was 6 or maybe 7 in case I ever needed him for emergency’s, I’m not too sure what that means. I remember once I was in the corner shop on Newland Avenue next to Jackson’s and I went inside next moment my mum had gone, and I didn’t know what to do she had just left me there.

My step dad just came in the room and said he would have to leave me here to watch them, I didn’t like this idea as I am only 8 and I don’t want to be left alone without my mum and dad. He looked really concerned and said that he needed to go and look for mum as she had gone missing all day and that he was very worried about her.

10pm

Its a bit strange being in a house on my own my brothers eventually went to sleep.

There’s some blue lights flashing on the curtains, I wonder if that means mums home now.

What’s wrong with me ?

What’s wrong with me?

You tell me all the things I want to hear

And I want you to want me like you say you do

But I can’t be in love with you?

I can’t find the way to restart this game?

And things just don’t seem to feel the same?

What is wrong with me ?

Your telling me the things I died to hear…

Still

I miss you… still

I hate every lingering habit

I picked up from you

every shoulder shrug

every empty hug

every empty rumble from not eating from anxiety before arriving at yours… I miss you…. Still… I miss that I can’t fucking text

and if I do ill become a crazy ex

I hate that I can’t just turn up and say

anything,

because you’ll push me away.

I hate that your probably at the other side of the world by now.

and im frozen in the palm of your hands.

I picture myself in my coat with the fluffy hood

looking up to you as snow falls

the part where I feel in love

I still miss…. this

this feeling where I’m so fucking high

and I can’t take you off my mind

the days of hours sat wondering

what the hell we are doing and if your going to end up coming… over

stumbling… words like broken stairs that lead to nowhere

and im scared, that I miss you…. Still.

My head hits the pillow

my head hits the pillow.. down falls my body

laying on the sheet

down goes my worries

inside it heats

off goes the quilt

my head hits the pillow

my head hits the pillow

Monday soon turns to Sunday

and Saturdays never felt the same since I was 18

thats a whole lot of alcohol

a whole lot of drinking

now people asking me why I don’t just have a bottle

my head hits the pillow

another pillow

another bed

and beside me another head

my body falls

it lands inside the sheets

my worries climb in

like I gave them some kind of welcoming

I’m a disaster and you still persue me

that’s a shame

my head hits the pillow

down goes my head

head on the pillow again and again…

Deadly

depression is an illness that knows no forgiveness. depression is deadly and can take over if you let it

depression is cunning and scarily addictive

can cast out a shadow of your worst fears and doubts

depression is a dementure that takes over your soul,

it feeds off your body it can swallow you whole,

depression is an illness a deadly disease,

it can spread it if you let it, take down cities and streets,

we need to work harder a cure must be there,

depression is deadly it just doesn’t care…

depression is darkness its voiceless and sharp,

intelligent and pretty like a spark in the heart,

don’t let depression make you feel guilty ashamed or afraid,

take back the courage to fight it away.

dont let people tell you your abnormal or strange, depression is common and can hurt anyone daily…

depression is close it came a couple of times, yeah a few, but I met some great people who had been through it too,

they gave me some pointers,

some tips to get rid,

but the remedy not quite there,

sometimes it can win.

Letter 6 ‘thunder’

6th of August 2007

‘Thunder’

Dear,

It’s been terrible weather this evening and whilst everyone else in the house cries or hides when the thunder and lightening strikes. Dad always runs up to the attic with a microphone recorder. I’m never allowed in the attic and I get pretty freaked out or scared by the dolls he keeps on the stairs and landing. They are the dolls you see in shop windows.
Mannequins so they call them.
Terrifying. 
I snuck up tip toeing up the stairs so he didn’t yell at me and tell me to go. He still managed to hear the very faint squeak of the floor boards break.
“Lil?”
I slowly started to walk backwards but nearly toppled over my feet my socks where loose.

“Lil is that you”

Dad asked opening the door.

“Yes” I whispered

“What are you doing up”

“I can’t sleep the thunders scary”

“It’s ok come in but then you must go to sleep”

The door creaked open I hadn’t been in the attic before. Dad hated me or my brothers going in. My step mum only ever went in to develop photos in water trays.

The room was cluttered with books, comics, toys still in boxes, we wasn’t allowed to take them out the packaging , speakers, baby dolls and mannequins and a record player. Some rope hanging with images pegged on.

Sat near the computer desk with the ceiling window open was dad “shhh…” he said “can you hear that?….it’s beautiful”

Aaaaand that’s ok with me

You can ruin my parade today

You can piss on my bonfire

You can eat all the birthday cake say they’re left overs and was by mistake

You can shit stir you can make me look like a fool

You can do it all you want because I’m giving up

Aaaaaand that’s ok, with me !

You can scare off all possible opportunities

You can take away my pride at least

You can act as though I am a beast

You can make out that I am a thief

It doesn’t seem to make much difference

Your efforts are insignificant

Aaaaaand that’s ok , with me!

You can burst all my balloons

You can call me names destroy my fun

You can trick me into loving you

Punish me time and time

I don’t care I guess I’m fine

Aaaaaaand that’s ok, with me!

Lavender

Days and days go by,

my sweet god,

I’ve been waiting for you,

Your calming eyes,

Blue with a haze of purple ,

Black dot in the circle ,

You’ve been travelling through the night to get to me, at last ,

You was careful ,

You’ve found me…

My sweet lover ,

You was almost saturated in a fountain of bloody water,

Now your turning it back to blue,

Slipping your hands in and out ,

Is it better on the other side ?

My sweet god ,

With your calming heroic energy ,

Disastrous weather never bothered thee ,

And golden robes drape down on he,

The god of positive energy ,

Calming like

‘Lavender’

…growing in fields in France waving around it dances

Grab my hand whilst where standing ,

You came to me ,

Rescued me from drowning ,

My sweet god.

calming eyes,

Blue with a haze of purple,

Black dot in the circle,

golden robes right to your ankle ,

Your halo above it sparkles,

Will you rip it down wrap it round me neck and strangle ?

I’ve always been too much for a god to handle ,

Are you sure that I won’t be too much of a handful ?

I know I could be like ,

Lavender.

We don’t ever speak of Lavender

Would it ever be like Lavender?

Does she smell just like Lavender?

~

Sweet god, my traveller,

Eyes Blue with a haze of purple,

Black dot in the circle,

You travelled all this way,

Too meet me in the fields of gray,

To tell me it’s way too late….

Letter 4 ‘The ice creams’

4th August year unknown

Dear , 
I’ve been busy today, the sun has been glowing and we’ve been running around at #Spurnpoint we always make it a competition to see who can run to the abandoned #spurnpointlighthouse first. The sand looked golden and fluffy, the sea calm with frothy with with bubbles at the edges of the waves. Water clear and see-through in the middle. The whole sky reflected across the water you could see the sky and the seagulls dancing around in the waters mirror.
And … no one else was there just us. I’m soaked , but that doesn’t matter I’ve got sand in my socks and shoes. Dads hair it tied up in a knot, he seems really happy today. My step mum and I walked across the stones , bare footed of course, at the top near the cliffs looking for sea shells, fossils like ammonites and smoothed stained glass. 
We’ve had a really nice day, my youngest brother is in the car seat fast asleep and my eldest is eating ice cream out of a cone. It’s a strange story , I was walking along on my own whilst everyone was getting into the car when I saw a piece of paper sticking out of the sand. I almost ignored it at first. But I reached out and pulled it from the sand, to see that it was a 20 pound note!
In amazement I ran over to dad but he said I should share it with everyone and get them an ice cream. So I did. 

One last thought before bed

I miss it,

But I’m so damn grateful that I’m so far away from that place,

I hate that I think of it,

But I know where I am,

I’m in such a safer environment,

It’s slightly distressing in the back of my memories,

The house was beautiful,

I imaged dancing holding wedding drapes,

Scrubbing off pieces of our wedding cake,

I miss it but it’s that part of my soul that needs to evaporator into the earth and never return,

I imagined raising our first child,

I watched them run in the garden,

All the seeds and flowers I watched them grow,

Nursed them as if I was a talented gardener,

But I had to leave all of that behind and that is was destroys me,

And as I look back in the memories of my mind.

I just see hate.

Blackness covering the garden.

Weed killer murdering the flowers.

And no child.

No cake.

No wedding drapes.

The world can harbour evil,

Who am I to challenge it?

And although deep this may seem,

It is sometimes one last thought before I go to bed.

8th jan 2019