(I am sorry, but this post is a bit late. It's suppose to date from last Tuesday but I had some problems with my laptop so I'm only posting it now)
Today is Mardi Gras.
Everyone is probably having fun or resting or doing something they like.
I'm not.
I'm home today, in my room, in front of a computer.
I think I have a socializing problem. I think I am afraid of people. Well, maybe not people themselves... Just social relationships.
- I'm not popular anymore (not popular in like popstar-bitch-slut thing, people don't want to hang around with me anymore)
- I don't make friends easily anymore (maybe because I got darker, bitter perhaps. Maybe it's just regrets of a former life?)
- I don't like to go out anymore (hey if you have no friends, where's the point?)
- I spend most of my time alone, at home (my room never looked better)
- I rarely invite people to come to my place... (I'm afraid of what they would find out)
...
I could go on and on. But does it make me richer or smarter or beautiful?
Nope, it doesn't. *Sigh*
She is home today as well. That's the bad thing about holidays.. I was better off alone than with her around.
She's been drinking. No, it's not the first time. And it certainly won't be the last. She has done it many times before. I've known that since I've known myself.
She hasn't said a word to me all day long. Hey, I'm not complaining. She's just there, smoking and drinking her brains out.
I hope she drowns.
Her lips have turned slightly purple because of the wine. Her eyes are puffy and her movements uncoordinate. Her skin is a little pale, contrarily of what people know about alcohol effects. When you look at her, she could easily pass as a deceased. Except that she is walking (well, bumping into things) and breathing.
God, I wish she was dead.
She occasionally breaks something. I can hear it from my room. And she's talking on the phone. She spends the whole day talking on the goddamn phone, boozin' up and she can't even talk to me?
I hate her.
I really do.
Sometimes I think what it would be like if I killed her. Seriously!
Would it put an end to all the pain she has put us through?
Would it feel good?
To look her in the eyes to see life escaping her body, watching her blood flowing out and to know it was over?
I hate Justice.
Sometimes I think on hurting myself.
You know, cut myself and stuff like that?
But even there I am a coward. I just can't do it.
I am powerless.
04 March, 2006
email this post
28 February, 2006
***UPDATE***
Today I decided to create, sort of, a new "column" on the blog. It will be called "Fragments" and it may or may not depict certain aspects of my real life. You never know... Anyway, I kinda decided to do this, probably inspired by Frank Warren's "Post Secret" and to some really cool online comics I've been reading lately. Hope you all like and if you don't like... well go fuck yourselves! I've put a lot a shit in this life for you people come and tell me what should I or should I not write!! Thank you.
19 February, 2006
A minha vida
A minha vida não se tornou naquilo que eu estava à espera. Eu era uma rapariga que adorava música aos berros, longas conversas telefónicas e dormir até tarde. Entrei neste mundo como uma criança de olhos bem abertos, fascinada com todas as suas pequenas novas surpresas. Mas agora sinto-me muito diferente - triste, muito triste. Mas há uma certa beleza na mágoa. Apercebo-me disso agora. Se não houvesse mágoa no Mundo, também não haveria compaixão. Chego agora ao ponto de acreditar que não há amor para mim neste Mundo.
Acordo todos os dias de manhã, desejando, esperando. De certo modo, sou única à minha maneira. Mas ainda sou humana.
Muitas vezes sonho que estou a voar, a olhar para baixo, para o Mundo e a deixá-lo com os seus problemas. O ar dança à volta do meu corpo e do meu rosto, transmitindo uma falsa sensação de calma. Sou livre como uma pantera, sinto a Terra a mover com cada movimento das minhas poderosas garras. Sou nocturna e secreta, mas não tenho medo do dia. Não tenho medo de nada. Sou a caçadora, não... Sou a presa.
Sou um tubarão. Nado por entre as águas azul metalizadas observando, esperando, perseguindo. Sou intocável. Sou temida por aqueles que estão abaixo das águas.
Sou tudo isto e muito mais na minha mente e no entanto não o sou. Sou um simples ser humano sem um propósito real para viver. Sou um peão neste jogo que chamamos Vida. Todos os dias sou confrontada com problemas e todos os dias me torno cada vez mais apática. Mas eu já aprendi a disfarçar isso.
Sonho com Amor e um lugar onde exista. Sou única mas, para sempre e todo o sempre, estou só. Estarei sempre só.
Entrei neste Mundo acreditando nisto e partirei com a mesma crença. Alguns dizem que sou utópica, outros assumem que sou louca. Nunca conheci o verdadeiro amor e tenho as minhas dúvidas se alguma vez conhecerei. Ignoro por completo os espécimes masculinos. Prefiro o conforto do meu quarto, o meu santuário. Tento alcançar os que estão à minha volta mas quem liga ao que eu digo? Sou diferente, logo sou ignorada.
As pessoas discutem porque acham que as suas crenças estão certas. Estão mesmo? Porquê? As possibilidades são imensas. Começo a acreditar que Deus é uma possibilidade, não um rosto familiar. As pessoas dizem "Deus está sempre connosco" ou "Deus trabalha de maneiras misteriosas". Estarão elas a arranjar desculpas? Não acho que se deva culpar Deus pelo estado em que eu estou. É o resultado das decepções emocionais dos outros e da ganância. O que faz dos humanos uma raça tão superior?
Quando as populações animais se tornam demasiado grandes, nós matamo-las impiedosamente,a humanidade está sobre-povoada. Por acaso andamos praí a matarmo-nos uns aos outros? Bem... é melhor nem responder.
Somos maus? O que é o Mal? Podemos defini-lo? A humanidade regozija-se como se soubesse tudo e mais alguma coisa mas não sabemos nada e duvido que alguma vez o saibamos. Nós metemo-nos nestas situações e cabe-nos a nós sair delas. Eu no entanto, não consigo sair so pesadelo em que vivo.
O Tempo tem uma importância decisiva desde o momento em que nascemos. Permite-nos crescer. Vamos à escola, procuramos emprego, apaixonamo-nos, casamo-nos e temos filhos, O Tempo deixa-nos fazer tudo isto. O Tempo é como um amigo, mas só durante algum tempo.
Então, o que fazes quando já não queres viver?
Mas não estás pronto para morrer ainda?
O que fazes quando a vida que levas
não passa de uma mentira?
O que fazes quando estás tão só
que parece que não há mais ninguém?
O que fazes quando cais do precípicio
e não há ninguém para te agarrar?
O que fazes? Quem chamas?
Quando nem Deus se parece importar?
Então, que fazes?
Fazes o mesmo que eu: escapas.
Já não suporto este tormento.
Acordo todos os dias de manhã, desejando, esperando. De certo modo, sou única à minha maneira. Mas ainda sou humana.
Muitas vezes sonho que estou a voar, a olhar para baixo, para o Mundo e a deixá-lo com os seus problemas. O ar dança à volta do meu corpo e do meu rosto, transmitindo uma falsa sensação de calma. Sou livre como uma pantera, sinto a Terra a mover com cada movimento das minhas poderosas garras. Sou nocturna e secreta, mas não tenho medo do dia. Não tenho medo de nada. Sou a caçadora, não... Sou a presa.
Sou um tubarão. Nado por entre as águas azul metalizadas observando, esperando, perseguindo. Sou intocável. Sou temida por aqueles que estão abaixo das águas.
Sou tudo isto e muito mais na minha mente e no entanto não o sou. Sou um simples ser humano sem um propósito real para viver. Sou um peão neste jogo que chamamos Vida. Todos os dias sou confrontada com problemas e todos os dias me torno cada vez mais apática. Mas eu já aprendi a disfarçar isso.
Sonho com Amor e um lugar onde exista. Sou única mas, para sempre e todo o sempre, estou só. Estarei sempre só.
Entrei neste Mundo acreditando nisto e partirei com a mesma crença. Alguns dizem que sou utópica, outros assumem que sou louca. Nunca conheci o verdadeiro amor e tenho as minhas dúvidas se alguma vez conhecerei. Ignoro por completo os espécimes masculinos. Prefiro o conforto do meu quarto, o meu santuário. Tento alcançar os que estão à minha volta mas quem liga ao que eu digo? Sou diferente, logo sou ignorada.
As pessoas discutem porque acham que as suas crenças estão certas. Estão mesmo? Porquê? As possibilidades são imensas. Começo a acreditar que Deus é uma possibilidade, não um rosto familiar. As pessoas dizem "Deus está sempre connosco" ou "Deus trabalha de maneiras misteriosas". Estarão elas a arranjar desculpas? Não acho que se deva culpar Deus pelo estado em que eu estou. É o resultado das decepções emocionais dos outros e da ganância. O que faz dos humanos uma raça tão superior?
Quando as populações animais se tornam demasiado grandes, nós matamo-las impiedosamente,a humanidade está sobre-povoada. Por acaso andamos praí a matarmo-nos uns aos outros? Bem... é melhor nem responder.
Somos maus? O que é o Mal? Podemos defini-lo? A humanidade regozija-se como se soubesse tudo e mais alguma coisa mas não sabemos nada e duvido que alguma vez o saibamos. Nós metemo-nos nestas situações e cabe-nos a nós sair delas. Eu no entanto, não consigo sair so pesadelo em que vivo.
O Tempo tem uma importância decisiva desde o momento em que nascemos. Permite-nos crescer. Vamos à escola, procuramos emprego, apaixonamo-nos, casamo-nos e temos filhos, O Tempo deixa-nos fazer tudo isto. O Tempo é como um amigo, mas só durante algum tempo.
Então, o que fazes quando já não queres viver?
Mas não estás pronto para morrer ainda?
O que fazes quando a vida que levas
não passa de uma mentira?
O que fazes quando estás tão só
que parece que não há mais ninguém?
O que fazes quando cais do precípicio
e não há ninguém para te agarrar?
O que fazes? Quem chamas?
Quando nem Deus se parece importar?
Então, que fazes?
Fazes o mesmo que eu: escapas.
Já não suporto este tormento.
Para Sandra :)
Os guerreiros da Luz mantêm o brilho nos olhos.
Estão no Mundo, fazem parte da vida de outras pessoas e começaram a sua jornada sem alforge e sem sandálias. Muitas vezes são cobardes. Nem sempre agem bem.
Sofrem por coisas inúteis, têm atitudes mesquinhas e, às vezes julgam-se incapazes de crescer. Frequentemente, acreditam-se indignos de qualquer benção ou milagre.
Nem sempre têm a certeza do que estão a fazer aqui. Muitas vezes passam as noites em claro achando que as suas vidas não têm sentido.
Por isso são Guerreiros da Luz. Porque erram. Porque se interrogam.Porque procuram uma razão - e com certeza vão encontrá-la.
In Manual do Guerreiro da Luz, Paulo Coelho.
Estão no Mundo, fazem parte da vida de outras pessoas e começaram a sua jornada sem alforge e sem sandálias. Muitas vezes são cobardes. Nem sempre agem bem.
Sofrem por coisas inúteis, têm atitudes mesquinhas e, às vezes julgam-se incapazes de crescer. Frequentemente, acreditam-se indignos de qualquer benção ou milagre.
Nem sempre têm a certeza do que estão a fazer aqui. Muitas vezes passam as noites em claro achando que as suas vidas não têm sentido.
Por isso são Guerreiros da Luz. Porque erram. Porque se interrogam.Porque procuram uma razão - e com certeza vão encontrá-la.
In Manual do Guerreiro da Luz, Paulo Coelho.
27 January, 2006
This was an e-mail I got from a recent friend. I'd like to dedicate it to a friend I had long ago and now, due to selfish, egocentrical issues I do not have the pleasure to talk to.
Have you ever wondered which hurts the most?
Saying something and wishing you hadn't?
Or saying nothing and wishing you had?
Have u ever decided not 2 become a couple because you were so afraid of losing what you already had with that person?
Your heart decides who it likes and who it doesn't. You can't tell your heart what to do.
Have you ever wanted to love someone with everything you had, but that other person was too afraid to let you?
Too many of us stay walled up because we are too afraid to care too much...for fear that the other person does not care as much, or even at all?
Have you ever denied your feelings for someone because your fear of rejection was too hard to handle?
*What would you do if every time you fell in love, you had to say good-bye?*
*What would you do if every time you wanted someone they would never be there?*
*What would you do if your best friend died tomorrow and you never got to tell them how you felt? (even if it is that you don't care anymore)*
*What would you do if you loved someone more than ever and you couldn't have them?*
*What would you do if you never got the chance to say I am friends with all of my family and they know I love them?*
I want to tell you that you are a friend. If you died tomorrow (God Forbid) you would be in my heart. Would I be in yours?
If you care about me as much as I care about you. You will send this back.
You might be best friends one year, pretty good friends the next year, don't talk that often the next, and don't want to talk at all the year after that.
So, I just wanted to say, even if I never talk to you again in my life, you are special to me and you have made a difference in my life. I look up to you, respect you, truly cherish you , most of all I CARE about friends.
Send this to all your friends, no matter how often you talk, or how close you are, and send it to the person who sent it to you. Let old friends know you haven't forgotten them, and tell new friends you never will.
Remember, everyone needs a friend someday you might feel like you have NO FRIENDS at all, just remember this and take comfort in knowing somebody out there cares about you and .. always will..
I care about you. :, )
Have you ever wondered which hurts the most?
Saying something and wishing you hadn't?
Or saying nothing and wishing you had?
Have u ever decided not 2 become a couple because you were so afraid of losing what you already had with that person?
Your heart decides who it likes and who it doesn't. You can't tell your heart what to do.
Have you ever wanted to love someone with everything you had, but that other person was too afraid to let you?
Too many of us stay walled up because we are too afraid to care too much...for fear that the other person does not care as much, or even at all?
Have you ever denied your feelings for someone because your fear of rejection was too hard to handle?
*What would you do if every time you fell in love, you had to say good-bye?*
*What would you do if every time you wanted someone they would never be there?*
*What would you do if your best friend died tomorrow and you never got to tell them how you felt? (even if it is that you don't care anymore)*
*What would you do if you loved someone more than ever and you couldn't have them?*
*What would you do if you never got the chance to say I am friends with all of my family and they know I love them?*
I want to tell you that you are a friend. If you died tomorrow (God Forbid) you would be in my heart. Would I be in yours?
If you care about me as much as I care about you. You will send this back.
You might be best friends one year, pretty good friends the next year, don't talk that often the next, and don't want to talk at all the year after that.
So, I just wanted to say, even if I never talk to you again in my life, you are special to me and you have made a difference in my life. I look up to you, respect you, truly cherish you , most of all I CARE about friends.
Send this to all your friends, no matter how often you talk, or how close you are, and send it to the person who sent it to you. Let old friends know you haven't forgotten them, and tell new friends you never will.
Remember, everyone needs a friend someday you might feel like you have NO FRIENDS at all, just remember this and take comfort in knowing somebody out there cares about you and .. always will..
I care about you. :, )
Tears of a different kind
As I lie awake at night,
I try not to cry with all my might.
I just cant get you off my mind,
But these are tears of a different kind.
I told myself that I would not fall head over heels,
I wish that you could know how this feels.
It was almost as if I was driving blind,
But these are tears of a different kind.
Tears of love and tears of hate,
Tears of regret and tears of debate.
Tears of hurt and tears of pain,
Tears of shock and tears of shame.
I try not to cry with all my might.
I just cant get you off my mind,
But these are tears of a different kind.
I told myself that I would not fall head over heels,
I wish that you could know how this feels.
It was almost as if I was driving blind,
But these are tears of a different kind.
Tears of love and tears of hate,
Tears of regret and tears of debate.
Tears of hurt and tears of pain,
Tears of shock and tears of shame.
O dia corre lentamente. Acordo desapontada mas levanto-me. Ultimamente é assim todas as manhãs. Quase que parece um suplício abrir os olhos. É por isso que preciso dela. Para fazer desaparecer todo este sofrimento nem que seja por um instante. Apenas para fazer algum sentido nesta vida sem sentido que levo. É tudo isso que a vida é... uma fraca substituta para o Inferno.
Se não o fosse, então porque existem tantas pessoas infelizes? Incluindo eu própria?
A vida não é o que fazemos dela... A vida é uma aventura doentia apenas à esperar de morrer mesmo antes de nascer. Desde a primeira vez que respiramos, começamos a morrer, decompondo-nos em nada.
Viver é viver em dor, sofrer dentro de nós próprios, esperando que não gritemos por ajuda. Mesmo quando gritamos por ajuda, estamos a posicionar-nos numa bola de rejeição flamejante.
A moralidade de tudo isto é que não há propósito algum para a vida humana. A vida humana está aqui para destruir a Terra, somos nós a espécie alienígena... Destinados a viver uma vida de regras independentes, de moralidade. Sós, lutamos pela sobrevivência da raça que com ou sem as nossas mentes, não existiria. A vida é só uma ideia... uma ideia de bem-estar e felicidade que teóricamente é só um estado de mente.
As sombras que seguiram durante tanto tempo só agora começam a brilhar, observando a escuridão de alguns, tornados única e friamente para uma garrafa. Embriagados com ódio absoluto, afogando-se em si próprios.
Esta é a minha vida, estes são os meus dias; mas interrogo-me por quanto tempo mais. Não tenho a certeza. A única coisa que me impede de ir lentamente, de me dissipar num mundo do nada, de me dissipar num mundo onde pertenço é ela. Um mundo de solidão, remorsos e promessas quebradas, onde gozo as mágoas residentes em mim.
Quem precisa de viver quando podemos sonhar? Sonhos são tudo isto que as raças fracas se baseiam. Sem sonhos somos piores que nada. Simplesmente não existimos.
Se não o fosse, então porque existem tantas pessoas infelizes? Incluindo eu própria?
A vida não é o que fazemos dela... A vida é uma aventura doentia apenas à esperar de morrer mesmo antes de nascer. Desde a primeira vez que respiramos, começamos a morrer, decompondo-nos em nada.
Viver é viver em dor, sofrer dentro de nós próprios, esperando que não gritemos por ajuda. Mesmo quando gritamos por ajuda, estamos a posicionar-nos numa bola de rejeição flamejante.
A moralidade de tudo isto é que não há propósito algum para a vida humana. A vida humana está aqui para destruir a Terra, somos nós a espécie alienígena... Destinados a viver uma vida de regras independentes, de moralidade. Sós, lutamos pela sobrevivência da raça que com ou sem as nossas mentes, não existiria. A vida é só uma ideia... uma ideia de bem-estar e felicidade que teóricamente é só um estado de mente.
As sombras que seguiram durante tanto tempo só agora começam a brilhar, observando a escuridão de alguns, tornados única e friamente para uma garrafa. Embriagados com ódio absoluto, afogando-se em si próprios.
Esta é a minha vida, estes são os meus dias; mas interrogo-me por quanto tempo mais. Não tenho a certeza. A única coisa que me impede de ir lentamente, de me dissipar num mundo do nada, de me dissipar num mundo onde pertenço é ela. Um mundo de solidão, remorsos e promessas quebradas, onde gozo as mágoas residentes em mim.
Quem precisa de viver quando podemos sonhar? Sonhos são tudo isto que as raças fracas se baseiam. Sem sonhos somos piores que nada. Simplesmente não existimos.
20 January, 2006
Tears to shed
If I touch a burning candle, I can feel no pain
If you cut me with a knife, it's still the same
And I know her heart is beating
And I know that I am dead
Yet the pain here that I feel
Try and tell me it's not real
For it seems that I still have a tear to shed...
If I touch a burning candle, I can feel no pain
In the ice or in the sun it's all the same
Yet I feel my heart is aching
Though it doesn't beat it's breaking
And the pain here that I feel
Try and tell me it's not real
I know that I am dead
Yet it seems that I still have some tears to shed...
If you cut me with a knife, it's still the same
And I know her heart is beating
And I know that I am dead
Yet the pain here that I feel
Try and tell me it's not real
For it seems that I still have a tear to shed...
If I touch a burning candle, I can feel no pain
In the ice or in the sun it's all the same
Yet I feel my heart is aching
Though it doesn't beat it's breaking
And the pain here that I feel
Try and tell me it's not real
I know that I am dead
Yet it seems that I still have some tears to shed...
18 January, 2006
The night is so dark. I look up not to see stars, but my own tears. One I have loved betrays me.
Judas would you betray me with a kiss?
How many times we have spoken and laughed? How many times I have wiped your tears away? How many times have you helped me through a dark night such as this? How many times have you kissed me with the warmth of friendship heating your lips?
Judas will you betray me with a kiss?
Where are those others I also loved? Have they scattered to the winds as well? Was my devotion not gift enough? Was my adoration not treasure enough?
Judas will you betray me with a kiss?
The wind hints to me of a wrong that has been done. She cups her hands to my ear and whispers of those who grieve. I plead, “Gentle wind, I do not know from where you come, and I do not know where you go, yet do not leave me lost and alone. Do not fly away without telling me what transgression I have committed.” The breeze only howls and moans in response determined to keep her secrets. She frustrates me and leaves me shattered. The unforgiving wind leaves me alone to bleed, leaves me to suffer with my confusion and pain.
Judas would you betray me with a kiss?
Where have I wronged you? Where I have placed pain in your heart instead of joy and laughter? Where have my lips cursed you instead of lifting you up?
Judas would you betray me with a kiss?
In dark shadows you have hidden. In hushed whispers you speak to those hidden specters of intrigue and deception. Tales of pain exchanged. Yet do these tales reach my ears so that I can mend the breach? Was there a way to right a wrong?
Judas would you betray me with a kiss?
Can a wrong that has never been brought to light be righted? When the light of day shines upon it and dispels the darkness, will there be anything left to see? If I remove the bandage from your wound to heal you, will there be a wound to see?
Judas would you betray me with a kiss?
Without a groan I will take the lashings the memories of love for you have to give. Without complaint I will allow my wounds to bleed.
Judas would you betray me with a kiss?
Silently I will remain in the darkness. Without reproach I will carry my cross up the mount where simple key strokes will drive the nails into my flesh. Silently I walk through the throng of those who would cry, “What crime has this one committed?”
Judas would you betray me with a kiss?
Tendrils of light begin to illuminate the sky yet this black veil will never be lifted from my heart. In darkness my love will remain where soon it will wither and die. With death comes the only true release from pain and suffering and I will invite her to my table to recline with me. I will let her caress me. Her cold lips will press to mine and in death I will be renewed.
Judas will you betray me with a kiss?
Judas would you betray me with a kiss?
How many times we have spoken and laughed? How many times I have wiped your tears away? How many times have you helped me through a dark night such as this? How many times have you kissed me with the warmth of friendship heating your lips?
Judas will you betray me with a kiss?
Where are those others I also loved? Have they scattered to the winds as well? Was my devotion not gift enough? Was my adoration not treasure enough?
Judas will you betray me with a kiss?
The wind hints to me of a wrong that has been done. She cups her hands to my ear and whispers of those who grieve. I plead, “Gentle wind, I do not know from where you come, and I do not know where you go, yet do not leave me lost and alone. Do not fly away without telling me what transgression I have committed.” The breeze only howls and moans in response determined to keep her secrets. She frustrates me and leaves me shattered. The unforgiving wind leaves me alone to bleed, leaves me to suffer with my confusion and pain.
Judas would you betray me with a kiss?
Where have I wronged you? Where I have placed pain in your heart instead of joy and laughter? Where have my lips cursed you instead of lifting you up?
Judas would you betray me with a kiss?
In dark shadows you have hidden. In hushed whispers you speak to those hidden specters of intrigue and deception. Tales of pain exchanged. Yet do these tales reach my ears so that I can mend the breach? Was there a way to right a wrong?
Judas would you betray me with a kiss?
Can a wrong that has never been brought to light be righted? When the light of day shines upon it and dispels the darkness, will there be anything left to see? If I remove the bandage from your wound to heal you, will there be a wound to see?
Judas would you betray me with a kiss?
Without a groan I will take the lashings the memories of love for you have to give. Without complaint I will allow my wounds to bleed.
Judas would you betray me with a kiss?
Silently I will remain in the darkness. Without reproach I will carry my cross up the mount where simple key strokes will drive the nails into my flesh. Silently I walk through the throng of those who would cry, “What crime has this one committed?”
Judas would you betray me with a kiss?
Tendrils of light begin to illuminate the sky yet this black veil will never be lifted from my heart. In darkness my love will remain where soon it will wither and die. With death comes the only true release from pain and suffering and I will invite her to my table to recline with me. I will let her caress me. Her cold lips will press to mine and in death I will be renewed.
Judas will you betray me with a kiss?
28 December, 2005
Silence
She listens the footsteps outside her room. The eerie quietness sends chills to her spine.
He is here again, she thinks.
The door is slowly opened and a small portion of light enters the dark room. She curls in the wooden sheet-torned bed.
Her eyes are closed.
The strong hands grab her by the shoulders and throw her to the floor. She only manages to let a small breath through her cut lips.
Then the hand connected with her face with an unexpected strength. One of her arms was being held and her long hair was falling to one side.
She could only sob.
The hand came again and again. She felt her whole body being ripped with pushes and pulls. The bruised skin on her sides was aching again.
No one will listen... Even if she does, she won't do a thing...
She felt her body being lifted up and crushed against the wall. He grabs her head with the large hand and pushes it against the wall.
She tries to inhale some air into her lungs, but even breathing was difficult at that point. He keeps pushing her and hits her face once again.
She falls to the floor on her knees.
Tears run freely through her face, but she can't cry she can't scream. Silent tears wash the blood on her wounds.
The salt of her blood and tears reaches her lips. Her head is being lifted by her silky brown hair. Then she let out a scream.
The cold steel penetrates her. So painful, yet so soothing...
Between ragged breaths and bloodied hands, she managed to let a small sigh.
"Silence at last. You will never hear me again. I promise. Ever."
Her lips formed a small smile as the last breath of life escaped from her body.
He is here again, she thinks.
The door is slowly opened and a small portion of light enters the dark room. She curls in the wooden sheet-torned bed.
Her eyes are closed.
The strong hands grab her by the shoulders and throw her to the floor. She only manages to let a small breath through her cut lips.
Then the hand connected with her face with an unexpected strength. One of her arms was being held and her long hair was falling to one side.
She could only sob.
The hand came again and again. She felt her whole body being ripped with pushes and pulls. The bruised skin on her sides was aching again.
No one will listen... Even if she does, she won't do a thing...
She felt her body being lifted up and crushed against the wall. He grabs her head with the large hand and pushes it against the wall.
She tries to inhale some air into her lungs, but even breathing was difficult at that point. He keeps pushing her and hits her face once again.
She falls to the floor on her knees.
Tears run freely through her face, but she can't cry she can't scream. Silent tears wash the blood on her wounds.
The salt of her blood and tears reaches her lips. Her head is being lifted by her silky brown hair. Then she let out a scream.
The cold steel penetrates her. So painful, yet so soothing...
Between ragged breaths and bloodied hands, she managed to let a small sigh.
"Silence at last. You will never hear me again. I promise. Ever."
Her lips formed a small smile as the last breath of life escaped from her body.
