Day 30
I can now say, with all the certainty in the world and more, that I have officially lost my fucking mind.
I am, without a sliver of a doubt, completely and utterly insane.
Doctor-Patient Confidentiality: Volume Five
Posts by Eme Strife
Guardian Angel: Part Eight
I unbuckle the strap of her heel and pull it off her foot, and I hear her groan in relief as formerly constricted blood is allowed to move freely again in her limbs. I do the same for the other foot and am met with another sigh of relief.
I pull the comforter over her, and the plush mass of fabric practically engulfs her small body, leaving only her face visible. I place the lone trash can in the room right next to the head of the bed. She’ll definitely need it in the morning—or whenever she wakes up.
Guardian Angel: Part Seven
And the sight of them only makes me want to sprint out of here and go find that bastard, Malone, and choke the living daylight out of his lying, conniving, gambling-addicted ass.
Guardian Angel: Part Six
Not one bit.
As a matter of fact, it serves her right for treating her body like it’s made of rust-resistant metal.
She was the one who put herself in this predicament, after all.
Guardian Angel: Part Five
This was not what I had in mind when they said “redemption mission”.
“Watch and protect Danny Sullivan for a whole year and you’ll get your wings back, Uriah”.
That’s what the Arch said.
No further explanations or elaborations. No whys, no hows. Just, “do the damn thing if you want your wings back.”
So I didn’t ask any questions.
I didn’t really have much of a choice, anyway.
Guardian Angel: Part Four
I may be experiencing what is, without a doubt, the absolute, worst hangover I have ever had in all my twenty-six years of life, and as result, my coherence is questionable at best at the moment.
Plus, my motor skills are probably still shot to hell from last night, especially considering the fact that I can barely get passed the constant ringing in my ears and throbbing in my temples—not to mention the disgusting taste of vodka-infused vomit that’s still lingering in the back of my throat.
Still, I’m pretty darn sure that what I’m feeling right here and right now is someone else’s skin.
Guardian Angel: Part Three
I feel my mouth lift slightly in a half-smile. I think I’m kind of awake, and kind of still asleep, but I’m pretty sure that I can feel something tickling my arm and shoulder.
I’m slowly drifting into consciousness, becoming more and more aware of my surroundings as I come awake.
Guardian Angel: Part Two
He was the last person I expected to run into last night. I wasn’t at all prepared to see him again after he’d casually dumped me over a fucking text message.
its over, Kia. im c’ing sum1 else.
That was it.
No further explanation. No follow up conversation. Nada.
After almost two years together, that was all the asshat said to me when he suddenly decided to end things between us.
Yeah.
Real fucking classy. Read More
Guardian Angel: Part One
I can’t feel my legs.
It sounds so damn cliché, but I really can’t.
My feet are suspended in mid air, hanging next to each other like two wooden planks. My body is immobile and it also feels unusually heavy.
Nothing is in focus, and I’m desperately struggling to stay awake. I’m insanely light headed, and right now, my brain feels like a huge chunk of boiled Play-Doh.
I feel like shit. Read More