[Kaimee]: 5.Contest Entries.100 Words - Every Bit

Written for and winner of the 100 words contest, aim was to write a piece using exactly 100 words without repeating any, including 'i, it, a, me, that' etc :P

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100 Words - Every Bit.

Final version:
Walked right out into high grass until no-one could have seen past swaying golden stalks. Stars above, bare roads sweeping by, only distant buildings could see, and then I screamed. Cried, shrieked, yelled worth anything, tried to make all the sound from this universe empty out before every fragment that’s in me exploded. Then when it finished a heel had broken; some rabbit hole. Dried stems itched their way along both ankles; my throat was raw, caressing tears slipped down each collar bone. Still felt every single bit of everything that feels wrong, pain hadn't gone away, nothing eased up.

Older Versions:
Walked out into this high summer grass, until no one could have seen any buildings or roads that swept right by on the other side, and then screamed. Cried, shrieked, yelled for what I was worth, tried to make all the sound in this universe empty out before every fragment in me exploded. When it finished a heel had broken from some rabbit hole, dried grass itched it’s way along my back, throat was raw, caressing tears slipped down each collar bone. Still felt every single bit of everything that feels wrong, pain hadn't gone away, nothing eased up any.

Walked right out into high grass until no-one could have seen past swaying golden stalks. Alone, with bare roads sweeping by, only distant buildings could see, and then I screamed. Cried, shrieked, yelled worth anything, tried to make all the sound from this universe empty out before every fragment that’s in me exploded. Then when it finished a heel had broken; some rabbit hole. Dried stems itched their way along both ankles, my throat was raw, caressing tears slipped down each collar bone. Still felt every single bit of everything that feels wrong, pain hadn't gone away, nothing eased up.

Original Version from a Diary entry of mine:
On new years eve I left all my friends in Civic early, left whatever random guy I wound up kissing at 12, left Hannah and her smarm, left the merry-go-round and bright lights and everyone who wanted to spend New Years with me, caught a taxi home, turned to walk up my drive then turned around and walked and walked way up to the end of my street, to the paddocks there.
I climbed a wall and then a fence, and walked out into this high grass thinking snakes were going to kill me and no one would find me for a week or so, but that I hoped someone saved some grass seeds and put them on my coffin; they were beautiful.
And I walked way out until I couldn't see any buildings or the road I knew swept right by on the other side and I screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed and tried to make all the sound in the universe empty me out before I exploded. And at the end all that was different was that my heel was broken from a rabbit hole, there was dried grass itching down my back and along my calves, my throat was raw, and I could feel tears slipping down my collar bones. I could still feel every single bit of everything that feels wrong, and it hadn't gone away or eased up any.
The next day I thought I didn't wake up, but turns out I'd been up and walking around before I collapsed feverish into bed.
And since then I've been undergoing my own private hell and giving my parents smiles inbetween coughing, and wiping my mouth and tucking the tissue away before my mother had to notice it was flecked with blood, and listening to people murmuring and whispering urgently in the next room, and blood tests I hardly wake up for and sharp things next to my bed incase I have to cut myself an artificial airway in the middle of the night.
My lips and nose and fingertips are numb and cold midsummer, I've lost my job and my cat, my darling beautiful thing, she's missing. My best-friend's boyfriend is the only one talking to me and thats because he broke up with her with intentions of fucking me, and right now I feel so goddamn pitiful that if I weren't sick I'd probably take him up on that, and THAT just makes me feel contemptuous of my own goddamn self. My friends are all busy playing sucks-boo-I-don't-like-you-today, it makes me laugh and cry to talk to them so I don't. I'm dying, and if my body doesn't take itself away first my minds going to dissolve of it's own free will.
And so that's been my life. Since New years.

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