Philosophy of the Dark- Chapter 13
Chapter 13
-The difference between life and death
-On both accounts
The difference between life and death is that life has a beating heart, a rush of blood, cycling air. Where-as death is utter stillness, afraid to breathe, afraid to let your blood continue it's path undisturbed. Death is feeling like your heart doesn't deserve to beat.
***
The phone rang, Jamie's heart sped as her mom made her way towards her room with quick light steps. There was a knock on the door, and it took Jamie all she had not to scream.
“Who is it?” She asked in a small voice.
“It's me,” her mom's calming tone reassured.
“Come in,” Jamie said, a bit louder.
Her mom peeked her head in, “I just wanted to make sure you're okay and
everything.”
Jamie put her pen down but didn't turn around.
“Jamie,” her mother said softly, walking fully into the room.
“Yeah,” Jamie repeated sullenly.
“What's wrong?” Her mom walked across the room and placed on hand on
Jamie's shoulder, and peeked over it to read.
“Oh Jamie,” she said, pulling her daughter back, hugging her close.
Jamie was glad she hadn't written about that night almost two weeks ago.
“Is there anything you want to tell me about?”
Jamie shook her head.
“Well, it can be Tammy leaving, Jamie almost smiled at her mothers
sarcastic tone.
“Is it about dad?”
There was no answer. Jamie's mom held her even closer, and planted a
small kiss on the top of her head before turning and walking across the
room.
“Mom,” Jamie said cautiously.
“Yeah honey,” her mom turned around to face Jamie.
“Could you stay here with me, I want you to see something,” Jamie rung
her hands together nervously.
“Sure,” Jamie sat down on the floor near the center of the room, her mom
next to her. She had her notebook clutched tightly in her hands, her palms
sweat.
“What's that?” Her mom asked.
“I'm writing a book,” Jamie kept her eyes to her lap where her hands
rested, refusing to listen to her and the notebook over.
“Oh, that's nice. What's it about?”
“Abuse.”
Her mothers eyes went wide, she froze, not saying anything for a few
minutes.
“Does your father know?” She finally asked.
“Yes. He found it one day,” Jamie answered.
“Jamie, honey. Are you alright?”
“I haven't gotten to that part in the book yet.”
Her mom put an arm around Jamie's shoulders and pulled her close.
“He doesn't know I'm still writing it,” Jamie said, quiet as ever into her lap.
“I wont tell him, I promise.”
“Thank you mom,” Jamie's arms finally obeyed her as she passes the red
confession of her life over.
“Are you sure you want me to read this?” Her mother asked, taking the
notebook into her own shaking arms.
Jamie nodded, “I think it would be best somebody read it.”
“Whys that?” her mom asked.
“Because if nobody does then my stories lost it's purpose.”
“What's its purpose then?”
“To tell the world what it's afraid to hear,” Jamie answered, looking her
mom in the eyes for the first time.
“That cant be it's only purpose,” her mom said.
“What else would there be?” Jamie asked.
“It has to feel good, writing everything down. Feeling like there's somebody
you can tell your secrets to.”
“It does,” Jamie admitted.
“Good enough to stop cutting?”
“You'll see.”
“Do you want me to stay here?”
“Please,” Jamie answered.
“Okay hun,” her mom put her arm around Jamie and opened the
notebook, “I'll stay here with you.”
Chapter 14-Purposes: Now posted! 
Just a couple of little punctuation errors, I think.
