Bitter memories

Running as fast as you can, with no reason, heart throbbing, feet pounding the ground, sweat pouring down your body, you lose all thought and give in to the motion. You run, the air rushing past you. Everything is a blur. You run until your body hurts, and cries for rest, and then you run some more. Eternity passes, and the pain fades, and then you stop. You put all your effort into stopping yourself from falling. You recover, and move on, head back up to your room. You walk in, and see a bunch of people, who try to make polite conversation with you. You don't even bother, and walk to your desk, and roll up a joint. You hear some exclamations of surprise, but you ignore them. You pick up your joint, and a half empty bottle of gin, and walk out. You light the joint on your way down the stairs, and smoke it slow, taking a deep drag each time, and taking a large swig of gin before you exhale. You know its going to hit you hard, but that's what you want, so you don't really worry too much about it. You reach the bottom, and you walk out, into the cold night. You walk out into the night, and head to a distant house, one with darkened shades. You walk up to the door, and feel yourself losing control already. You knock, and someone lets you in. It's dark, and packed with people, a bunch of people all drinking, dancing, making out, sitting. You lose yourself in the crowd, and let yourself go, dancing, letting the music take over. You forget everything, and there is a sense of wonderous creativity in your spirit. There is something else in your soul with you, bolstering you. And then you stop as you see a woman you've never seen before. You stop completely, and she looks at you. You try to control yourself, for just a second. She smiles at you, and you gesture to her, and smile. She comes to you, and you dance, dancing away the night. Then her smile changes, and she looks at you far more intimately. Suddenly everything changes within. Your smile vanishes, and you push her away, and walk away. One single thought goes through your head before being eaten up by the alcohol and drugs.
"That look...... I remember that look from so long ago. Never..... ever.... again."

Differences

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she screamed.
"Oh, sorry, I didn't..... don't..... mean to that.... do that" you slur in a drunken haze.
Suddenly the room quietens, and you get glares, from everyone. Everyone's stopped to look at you, some in pity, but most in disgust, and undisguised hatred. You stumble, your vision not what it should have been. You trip, and fall, and no one makes any motion to help you. Someone walks up to you, and picks you up, with an iron grip you would have winced at were you sober. The next thing you know you're on the street. You hear snatches of conversation ".... fucking brownshit...." ".... motherfucking shitbloods...." ".... who the fuck does he think he is fouling my house?" You don't notice; you're too drunk. Parts of your clothing are missing, mainly your jacket. You're freezing, but you don't notice. You stumble across the road, and through the snow in nothing but a sweat soaked shirt thats freezing up quickly, and a dirty pair of pants. You stumble all the way back to your dorm, and somehow make it through to your room. You pass out on the ground, wincing in pain now. The cold sobered you up, and various wounds come to life with a vengeance. The rest of the night is unsurpassed torture. As you sober up more, the pain gets worse. Memories return, and you blanch with self-disgust.
"Fuck..... what have I done?" passes through your mind, again, and again, and again.
In the darkness, you begin to weep, tears passing down your semi frozen face. So far away from home, you made a mistake. So far from the safety of your net you slipped up. Who is willing to help? Who will reach their hand across the gaping chasm of racism and help you out? No one, comes the booming answer in your head.
"I'm all fucking alone. Completely alone. What now? Who the fuck do I turn to? What the fuck do I do?"
The pain gets worse, and the night shrouds you in its dangrous blanket. There is no way out, nowhere left to go. You can't run away, you can't stay. You weep, and cry, and pray the sun doesn't rise. Differences. Really. Hurt.

Throwaway

When you're so close to making a mistake, to falling into the ground, to feeling like there is no way out but this, do you take it? Your life is perfect, you have everything you could ever dream of wanting, but you want more. You want everything, everything that you could possibly have. Everything that God created, you want. You forget what's in your hand to reach out to the forbidden fruit. Reason and logic desert you in your manic search for everything, your desire to possess insurpassable power. You take it, and everything turns to dust, everything in your hand crumbles and falls to the ground, worthless and dead. You turn back with your heart in your mouth, knowing that the world as you know it is turning against you, faster and faster. The pillars of light in the distance darken, and fade. Malice, pain, suffering, death and hatred fly into your soul, and despair takes over. You fall, fall for what seems eternity, and then just ask you think that the ground will never come, it shatters your spine. Writhing in bodily pain, you scream, and yell, and no one comes to help. You're drowning in a pool of quick sand. Your lungs fill with sand as you scream in terror. No one comes.