Track 01- Lithium
Welcome!
This story is deeply close to my heart, and I am so excited to finally share it with a wider audience. It was originally written in German and translated into English with the help of AI to bring it to life for readers around the world.
I truly hope this story touches you, sparks your imagination, and stays with you long after the final page. Thank you so much for being here and taking this journey with me!
Enjoy the read!
Kurt Cobain’s melancholic voice bled from the headphones of her Walkman.
“I’m so happy ’cause today I’ve found my friends. They’re in my head. I’m so ugly, but that’s okay, ’cause so are you. We’ve broken our mirrors.”
The music snapped, ripping her brutally from her own mind. Breaking the illusion that she wasn't stuck in this godforsaken shithole of a town, but standing near the edge of a stage in some hyped-up club in Seattle. Where the noise simply drowned out reality. Where there were no people she was forced to be locked in a house or a school with.
“Fuck!”
Her raspy, high-pitched voice echoed through the room. She scrambled off the bed and grabbed a yellow pencil to untangle the mess. An eaten cassette tape was absolute hell.It took a gentle touch and patience.While her hands were busy using the edge of the pencil to carefully guide the delicate magnetic ribbon, she caught a winged shadow settling on her windowsill out of the corner of her eye.
“Wait, damn it...”
She muttered, painstakingly unraveling the knot.She turned the tiny spools until the tape was wound back into place. Sometimes she wished real life worked like that, too. Just grab a pencil, untangle the chaos, and everything’s fine. Rewind yesterday evening. Before it happened. Before he lost his mind over an untidy room.She popped the cassette back in and hit ▶
A relieved smirk washed over Samantha’s lips. Kurt was singing again. The world was safe for a few more minutes.She dropped her shoulders. Only now did she realize how tightly she’d been gritting her teeth. It was a pattern: tense the muscles, hold the breath, wait until the thudding in the hallway stopped. Routine for three years now.The bird didn’t startle as the window slid open with a loud screech.He was an old acquaintance, a confidant she fed with crumbs from a small clay bowl—just like today. His sharp beak scraped against her palm. A sharp, almost painful, but honest sensation.
“Nevermore...”
she whispered.
“Samantha!”
She had almost forgotten the heavy footsteps in the hallway. Numbed by Nirvana and Edgar Allan Poe. The outside world ceased to exist for her until it violently barged back into her reality. The raven took flight as she slammed the window shut.
“Samantha! Get down here!”
His deep voice echoed, making her heart skip a beat.She gnawed on her already chewed-down fingernails, right near her lower lip where a trace of dried blood still clung. The cut still burned.
“Be right there!”
She called downstairs, yanked the Walkman off her head, and tossed it onto the bed. The plastic casing bounced off the mattress.The wooden stairs creaked beneath her feet. She knew exactly which step to skip to avoid the loud snap, but today it didn’t matter. He already knew she was there.He was blocking the hallway, staring at her with dark, hollow eyes, a six-pack of warm canned beer dangling from his hand.
Harlan stepped slowly toward his daughter, every stride accompanied by the heavy stench of stale smoke and cheap shaving lotion.He pressed his thumb against the cut on her lower lip. She flinched slightly, but managed to hold his gaze. For a fraction of a second, she thought she caught something like remorse in his eyes. But remorse was a foreign word in this house.
“Get ready. We’re going shooting,”
He grunted, shoving the beer into the fridge.Samantha froze. Shooting. That meant recoil in her shoulder, ear protection, and the stench of burnt gunpowder. It also meant he’d hand her a loaded weapon. The only minutes of the week where she was the one in control, not him.A faint, cynical smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. Guess it was time for some father-daughter quality time again.
