|You heard me, DC. Bring her back.|
There Is A Lady In Our ClosetShe has always been in our closet.There Is A Lady In Our Closet by JudeDeluca
I do not know how she got in our closet.
I do not know why she is in our closet.
She will not tell me why she is in our closet.
She gets angry when I ask her why she is in our closet.
I do not like it when she is angry.
I do not like the lady in our closet.
But I cannot tell her that I do not like her.
I tried to once.
And I got hurt.
And she told me she would do it again.
So I am always nice to the lady in our closet.
Because it is the only way she will stay in our closet.
Because I do not want to end up like my brother.
My parents still cry over him.
But the lady is very lonely.
She wants to play with me.
I am afraid to tell her no.
But she tells me she is very lonely in the closet.
She tells me if I do not find someone to play with her I will get hurt.
So I find someone to play with the lady in our closet.
And for a while I do not hear her.
I do not hear anyone in the closet.
And then the next day she tells me she wants to pla
A Bad Idea (With Arsenal and Lightning Lad)“This was a bad idea.”A Bad Idea (With Arsenal and Lightning Lad) by JudeDeluca
“Yeah, this was a bad idea. You shouldn’t have done it.”
“I shouldn’t have done it?! You shouldn’t have done it!”
“No way! I thought of it first!”
“You did not! My wife’s a mind reader so I know you didn’t think of this first!”
“Oh please, like you’d get her to stoop so low.”
Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring… because all of the commotion was currently coming from the top of the house, specifically the chimney, as two red-clad figures were currently struggling to free themselves from the top of the chimney.
Roy Harper (Arsenal) of the Teen Titans, and Garth Ranzz (Lightning Lad) of the Legion of Super-Heroes, were crammed inside a small, redbrick chimney, with both of their top halves sticking out and fruitlessly struggling to free themselves from their soot-stained prison.
“You already saw I
Too Many RobinsOctober 31st, 200XToo Many Robins by JudeDeluca
Halloween, a time of year sugar rushes and getting the bejezes scared out of you are not only time honored traditions but mandatory regulations. Across the United States, children and those who remain young at heart are preparing for the spooktastic celebrations that come once a year (at least according to those uptight calendar corporation buttheads) by dressing up as whatever, or whomever, they so please, collect candy, and/or attend parties.
Nearly every home is adorned with jack-o-lanterns, cut outs of witches, ghosts, goblins, and vampires, fake blood is drenched and dried across walls, and adults stand by with heaping helpings of different kinds of candy to tantalize the pallets of the young (the cool ones in any event).
“Hurry up Daddy!”
“I’m coming Lian but these bags are heavy!”
Roy Harper tried to keep up with his young daughter Lian, who was carrying a half-full bag of candy and assorted treats while her
Current Residence: Bronx, NY|
Favourite genre of music: Rock, Anime Soundtracks
Favourite style of art: Photorealism, Animation
Favourite cartoon character: Utena, Lightning Lad, Harley Quinn, Oyuki, Priss Asagiri, Batman, Daria, Duela Dent, Sailor Jupiter
The previous summer, I was in a terrible place emotionally. It was the summer before my last year at Lehman, my brother was getting ready to transfer to Purchase College, and I had to schedule a doctor’s appointment because of some concern over a mole on my back.
I was feeling miserable over the few days leading up to July 8th, wasn’t sleeping very well and I felt irritated all over. My brother was being an asshole like he usually is and getting into frequent arguments with our parents over Purchase, and taking it out on me just because I was nearby.
I had actually been contemplating suicide a couple of days before July 8th, but I didn’t really act on it until that day.
I woke up in the afternoon to my brother in another argument with our parents over the phone, and telling me to leave. Apparently he was denied a few student loans because our parent’s credit history is terrible, and he was threatening to make them both miserable forever if he couldn’t go to Purchase and if he ended up stuck in this house. Which would mean he was going to make me miserable as well.
I went downstairs for a little while and when I went back up he was still angry and petulant. At that point my mind just kind of reached the worst possible place it could’ve. Everything kind of collapsed together. I saw a place where I’d be going through my last year at Lehman suffering from some kind of skin disease if not cancer, still having to work two part-time jobs, living with a selfish, miserable asshole incapable of thinking about anyone else, and then also dealing with two other selfish assholes incapable of thinking beyond their own stupid needs, and then also worrying about what it would cost to pay for said disease and how that would affect my school work after I had come so far.
And then my brother goes up to me and says “Oh God forbid you should get up from that computer and do something.”
I couldn’t take it. I refused to take it.
I grabbed a knife I had placed under one of the sofa pillows, pushed past my brother, and locked myself in the bathroom.
My brother was pounding on the door and begging me to open it because he was sorry for how he acted, and as I had the knife at my wrist but didn’t cut yet, I just, all I could think about was how much I hated him. I mean, I hated my brother so much at that moment. I hated my dad and I hated my mom too. All three of them. I wasn’t just doing this because of my worst possible situation thinking, but because I wanted to get away from them so very much.
For four years, ever since my parents split, I was in the background having to listen to everyone’s problems and bullshit and arguments, and no one ever bothered to notice or care that I also had stuff I wanted to talk about. That I was miserable too and needed help. No one cared. The only way I could protect myself was by intervening in everyone’s arguments because I still had to live with these people, and I got called a martyr because of it. I didn’t know how to walk away. I didn’t have anywhere to walk away too. And I just wanted someone to notice how I felt because they wouldn’t listen. I was hoping they would reciprocate. They never did. And then I had to deal with a whiny, self-absorbed child for a dad who would make threats whenever I wouldn’t pay attention to him, a mom who abandoned my brother and I and continued to brush off any problems I had because she was tired of hearing about them but still have the nerve to use me for a bank account and call me at three in the morning to vent about her boyfriend’s illness, like I’m just a wall to talk at or a burden. And then my brother, a lazy, overly emotional sponge constantly writing off his moods as a possible side effect of his medication, wrapped up in his own little world, treating me like a target to vent stress, never picking up after himself but always having friends over and making another mess that doesn’t get cleaned for four days. Oh you better believe I fucking hated them so very much.
I was screaming at my brother to shut up but, despite all that, I couldn’t do it. I had the knife, I held it to my wrist, but I just couldn’t cut.
I couldn’t do it.
And so I spent the next couple of days completely miserable and bitter about everything. Whenever my brother tried talking to me, I threw things at him and screamed at him to leave me alone, when I wasn’t being nasty and spiteful to him. The only thing I had to look forward to at that point was a commission from Ramona Fradon I was still waiting on. But even then, I was still thinking of killing myself and decided to wait until after I got the commission.
Then on Tuesday night, my brother told me dad was trying to call and said he’d be coming over if I didn’t call him. I’d been ignoring his calls all day or hanging up on him. I finally called him at like 10 at night, and I, I just, I couldn’t hold it in. I didn’t tell him I tried to kill myself, but I was crying and sobbing and told him I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t keep going with the way things were since they split. It was too much for me. With school and work and this doctor thing I just, I couldn’t. I ended up calling my mom as well and telling her the same thing.
Both of them were kind of apologizing for the stress they had placed on me, my dad especially was sorry, and my dad asked to stay over on Thursday after I went to the doctor’s to have the sample taken for my test.
I saw my therapist Dr. Johnson on Sunday, and we began talking about stuff I hadn’t brought up yet. Stuff that we began talking about for the next few sessions, like my sexual assault in middle school. When I told Dr. Johnson about my suicide attempt on Monday, she said she wanted me to start coming in every week instead of every two weeks, and suggested talking to my parents about helping me pay for my sessions, because she was worried about me. After I left, I told both of my parents about what I tried to do after I brought up my assault.
I haven’t really gone on length talking about this with crowds. A few people know about this and a couple of my professors do. I wasn’t trying to televise my attempt because I just felt so ashamed of myself. Some of my friends tried to be understanding and others were mad at me for not coming to them about it and for trying to do something so stupid in the first place. When I saw Ramona Fradon at New York Comic Con last year I made sure to tell her why that commission she did for me meant so much to me and why.
Since then, I began trying to control the whole “stinkin’ thinking” mindset I’ve found myself falling into so many times, where I’m thinking over and over how “I CAN’T DO THIS” and can’t see any possible hopeful outcome. I didn’t have a disease or cancer and I made it through my last year at Lehman. I’ve been working at distancing myself from my parents and my brother whenever there is an argument between them, and to ground the expectations I have of them, which I have to honestly say, is not that much. I learned I put too much into people whom I have somewhat toxic relationships to and was basically ignoring the people who are close to me that have been helpful. I should’ve been turning to them instead of my family, because they’ve been more helpful than my parents or my brother.
But most importantly, I felt I was powerless and useless. I felt I couldn’t change anything in my life and there was nothing good about it. I censored my feelings against other people and my feelings of anger and sadness for too long, and all that being internalized I tried to hurt myself because it felt like the only thing I had the power to accomplish. I felt ashamed of myself, but now I feel even more ashamed that I tried something so completely stupid.
But I didn’t die. I didn’t hurt myself. I made it through that. I had help from friends, and yes, even my dad proved more supportive than I thought, and I managed to accomplish a lot since last year. I feel so much better about myself and now that school is over I can focus on my work and my writing and finding ways to become the person I want to be for my sake.