staticwolfgirl
What is strength, you may ask. Strength is not how strong you are physically, for anyone can lift weights, and exercise. No. To me, strength is more of an emotional word. Strength is watching your friend's life slip away, and having the strength to hold on, for them, if no one else. Strength is staying true to yourself, when your world is crashing down around you. Strength is courage. Strength is truth. Strength is life.
I wander hopelessly through the empty hallways, listening closely for any sign of an escape. But all the sound that my puny ears could detect, was the deafening pitter-patter of my heart in my chest. What was it about this place that scared me so much? Was it the knowledge that an escape was inevitable, or the fact that I would be alone for eternity? I ignored the feeling of dread that rose in my throat, and pressed on, wandering the ever-changing corridor, until my time finally ran out.....
Oh how much simpler life would be if I could control a magic wand. What fortunes such power could bring me, and such happiness would come my way. But how could I stay grounded, if I could have whatever i wanted? No. I would rather struggle through life, than take the easy way out. After all, if its not worth fighting for, than you don't need it in your life anyway.
I look onto the blank page that lies upon my desk and write. I write, and write until my hand simply cant take it anymore. Sure you could say this small obsession may be a problem, but I don't believe it is. It's simply an outlet for my raging imagination. Fiction is nothing but a dream, or fear that manifests itself in my mind. Not an obsession. Or so I believe. Others may disagree. No, writing is simply a way for me to get away from it all, without actually getting away. And I'm happy that I have the freedom to do so. For if I didn't THEN I would have a problem.
The cloth around my neck did nothing to shelter me from the bitter cold. I walked on through the frozen waist land that I used to call home, wishing with all my heart that I would live to see the green forest once again. Didn't I deserve at least that? One more chance to see the life in it all, before my own life slipped away. As if animating my thoughts, my scarf slid off my neck, and blew away in the wind. I didn't bother chasing it, just like I wouldn't fight back when frostbite overcame me, and my spirit blew away with the wind.