My Name Is...: Positive, but QuietPositive, but QuietThere’s not much to say about Positives. They’re quiet little thoughts. Their effects are not sudden and they take time. Because of that, you can easily give up on them. They could even give up on you.They’re also hard to believe. “Things will get better. They will, they will!”You question them a lot and that’s what they love to say the most. A Positive is only at their strongest if you’re willing to listen.
My Name Is...: Rain Shines MoreAnd the Rain Shines More Than A SunWe need Rain. I love Rain. Rain is peaceful. Rain’s Negative is Thunder. Her weaker one is Lightning. They try to hide her beauty in horror. Pitiful.I like watching Rain. She may cry a lot, but she’s so beautiful. She has her happy moments, when her tears are warm and you can walk freely in them as they drizzle. I like it when she has happy tears. They disappear so quick though…Her sad tears fall too often. She’s cried too many. The freezing tears that flood that one spot in your yard. The heavy tears that come in waves as the wind pushes them. Your favorite kind of tears that your mom or dad would never let you play in. Those are Rain’s sad tears. They come too often.We need Rain to be sad, though. We need for her Negatives to take over and bring a storm. We need Lightning to bring her startling images and Thunder to follow with his roars of insults. Rain fights it. She comes down harder. She comes down faster
My Name Is...: To My FriendsTo My Friends For Every Day of the WeekWhat am I even supposed to say here? You would think I’d know, but I honestly don’t. It’s just that Reality has given me another normal day. “Normal” basically means “boring,” though. At least, it does in this town. The town that has really cold winters that’ll chill your bones in less than five minutes. The town that has extremely humid summers that make you sweat within seconds. “Normal.”You either sit inside in a small, dark room or walk this old, crumbling town. Most of the time, there are groups of three or four people walking. How many groups? Only about two groups in a town of one thousand seven hundred. I, on the other hand, happened to choose one that stays inside.Michelle, Calista, if you read this, don’t hate me for this. I do like being with you both, don’t get me wrong. There are some things I hide, though. Some people can think too much if they stay ins
My Name Is...: A NegativeA NegativeWhat’s a Negative, you ask? Let me explain. A Negative is a voice inside your head that always rambles. They love to hear themselves talk, so they repeat themselves like a broken record. You don’t know why you listen, you just do.They say cruel and disgusting things to you. They take the form of your biggest fear. No, not spiders or clowns or needles. They take the form of the worst version of you. The version you wish not to be.You try to fight them. You put on your “I’m-A-Big-Kid” facade and stare them straight in the face. You stare at the similar features, but you refuse to believe that it’s you. Your eyes stare into theirs. Red, glowing pits of fear and torture. You stare into Hell.That laugh - That horrible, screeching laugh that makes you shiver. Echoing over and over and over again. “Stop,” you yell. “Stop!”They laugh harder. Once again, the record repeats. You keep screaming. You didn’t wan
My Name Is...: TimeTimeTry to remember something from yesterday. No, I’m serious. Try to remember what you ate for breakfast yesterday. Unless you mix it up, it shouldn’t be that hard, right? Now, try to remember something from a month ago. That was fun, right? Wait, are you sure that was a month ago? Maybe it was two or three months ago… Maybe it was even a year ago. Or, it could’ve been just last week.Time is the devil trapping us in mixed memories.We all have our enemies. It could be someone at work, or school, down the street, or even in your own home. A parent, a teacher, a sibling, a classmate, a boss, or even a stepparent. Whoever it is, it’s someone that makes you say, “Stay away!”They don’t, do they? Instead of taking a step back, they take a step forward. After striking more fear into you, they say, “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”You’re not stupid. You’re not deaf. You hear them whisper, “Paranoid