It's Monday now.

Today I go in for the needle.

Today my mother takes me back to the coast for... how long? I have no idea. Maybe only until Wednesday/Thursday. Maybe until Saturday or Sunday.

I.

Really.

Can't.

Handle.

This.

But it's either go down there and play the whore, or end up without insurance, without a place for Kadin and I next week, without any way to pay bills.

*curls up* Just thinking about going back down there makes my stomach churn and makes me... yeah. I'm definitely packing the razorblades. I'll need them. Those... half a bottle of Pimm's, maybe... gods.

I have no idea what the hell to do.

And yeah, it's far too late to hope for reprieve. Been looking. Been thinking. Been praying, even... not to my mother's God but to the deities I actually have faith in.

No.

My life doesn't work like that.

Been totaling it up. $400. $400 to get me out of debt, to make things safe again.

$200 to get through the month.

And $0 in my posession.

So yeah, I'm gonna go whore myself out, as it were. And I don't even get laid in the process, dammit. I just get to fake being their perfect little daughter, to take their shit, to bow my head and say my prayers, to dress like a reject from the 50s, to watch my speech, not talk about my boys, or my religion, or my life... to try to act 'normal'.

My alts... gotta hide 'em.

My love for more than one man... gotta deny it.

My lack of belief in the Christian Church... gotta fake it, gotta be a Good Little Christian Girl.

My hope to ever be anything but my mother's child... broken.

My hope that I could ever stand on my own... broken.

My hope for a life that she isn't involved in... broken.

My will to live? WHAT will to live?

Just thinking about it.

Watching the clock.

Ripped apart by each passing minute.

Tempted to go upstairs... to cut... cut deep... drown this gnawing hatred in blood and tears and pain until it's all ripped out and ripped away.

I don't want to feel this.

I don't want to BE this.

I...

...I hate this...

...weak, Jax, you're fucking WEAK, too pathetic to ever survive, it's amazing you've made it this far, a mistake on someone's part, why don't you shut your hole and go do something to correct that mistake before anyone else has to see what a mess you've made of things?

Just go do it.

Yeah, it'll hurt for a little while. Just a little while... a few minutes while it burns, an hour tops while you fade into oblivion... then nothing.

No more you.

A week or two of tears, yes, they WILL cry... but then you'll fade completely. Useless alive, useless dead, but better off not drawing breath, not eating, not talking, not leeching off anyone who gets close, pathetic little energy drain. You drink them dry and they let you do it, how could you possibly be so horrible to them, how could you DO that? You can taste the stain of it, can't you...

...come along, come along with me, and I'll ease your pain...

Great song, "Come Along" by Titiyo. Never heard a knifeblade singing to me before I heard that. But it is... bladekissed, dead.

Dead.

Dead.

If I were dead, I wouldn't have to feel my heart breaking.

If I were dead, I wouldn't have to realize how deeply, how consistantly, I fail the few people stupid enough to depend on me.

If I were dead...

...if...

...gods, please...

I can't deal with this. I can't. Not won't. Can't. Threw up yesterday just thinking about my mother's voice. I think I'm going to be sick again. I...

...gods.

...come along now, come along and you'll see what it's like to be free...