Twenty Two: A note of madness.

I'm taking a leaf out of Lydia's book and...well, I'm quoting from a book. Hence the title. Google it.

'No, no, no, no, no.' Flynn rolled over, head hanging off the side of his bed, and scrunched up his eyes. There was no pain this time, no headache, and yet he knew - as sure as he knew from the late-morning sunlight streaming through the curtains that it was a fine day - that it was back, and with a vengeance.
   Getting out of bed was unimaginable, going back to sleep impossible. There was a familiar weight on his chest - a crushing weight of interminable sadness from which there was no escape.
...
Who had he told? What had he said? Oh no, Jennah! She must think he was a complete idiot! What had he been thinking?
...
He rolled over on his side and squinted down again at the music lying on the floor. He couldn't even read it properly- his eyes wouldn't focus. He couldn't hear the notes in his head, couldn't imagine that they made any sense, coldn't comprehend how he could have possible imagined that he was in any way capable of composing anything - anything at all. He wished he could burn it all, set fire to the damn floor, but he didn't even have the energy to stuff the papers in the bin. He didn't need to look at his alarm, he could tell by the sunlight that it was gone eleven and he knews that he had been asleep for more than thirteen hours, although he felt as if he hadn't slept at all.
...
A shower was far too much effort. Cold water splashed over his face would have to do. A feeble attempt with the toothbrush - the taste made him want to retch...He bit his lip to hold back furious tears.


Ta dah. In other normal news, college has finished, coursework and mock exams have been handed in, five university offers, christmas presents bought and wrapped. Last week was Oxfam lunch, dress shopping in Chichester, pub quiz, babysitting, Oxfam, coursework, Dad coming home, buying and decorating the Christmas tree , decorating my room.

And now I have to go.
B xxx :)