I can sense a cold coming on quickly and so, for the sake of comfort and doing what I want to do because I just don’t feel like “it,” I decided to get to my 250 words early and play Rock Band and Lego Clone Wars later.
As write these scenes where Damen cleans up after his drugged up mother, I think about the privileged life I’ve lived. My understanding of drug abuse comes almost entirely from my meager understanding of human behavior and from my imagination, but I put my characters through such horrific things, that I think the only humane thing I can do is to kill them or put them in a state where it is impossible for them to move forward in time.
After Damen has seen so much at a young age, I could never see him growing much older and becoming a productive member of society. It’s a very sad thought to carry as I write since all my preceding characters have had interesting lives before and after I’ve “visited” them in a project.
I wrote 290 words tonight (following the same steps he always had as a young boy.) and they may be some of the most psychologically depressing I’ve written up to the this point in my life. Still, I have to write the story that comes to me and just have to satiate my worries with the fact that these are fictional people that I have created.