boudeur
The darkness consumed her as she sat there not only hearing but also listening to her girlfriends screams. Guilt filled her body but what was she supposed to do? How could she protect her? She was already beaten half to death and, soon, her girlfriend would be too.
She couldn't control it anymore. She's spent most of her life being bullied and mistreated; she was on edge and didn't know how much more she could control herself. Her temper ran short and her heart was breaking.
She could barely function as the weekend passed her by. The sky changed from blue to black in what seemed like an instant and the clouds moved as if they were racing away. The world was moving by as she watched it.
Below the tree lied a book filled with all the wonders of the universe. She loved the book more than life itself; it took her to where she needed to be, who she wanted to see, and what she would have never known otherwise.
The morning air was crisp. Everything seemed so delicate to her. She felt as if she could simply touch the morning dew and the whole world would fall apart.
The sparkling cider set on top of the dining room table. She politely sipped it throughout the evening, thinking only of the night she connected it to. Fighting back tears, she tried to put on the facade that she was enjoying the evening.
They called me a savage; they called me a lot of things but I knew who I was and I didn't care. I knew the wind would take me somewhere special -- somewhere they wouldn't show prejudice against me. I wasn't them. I was different. So what?
The oil had been thrown into the house on a whim. As she walked away, she lit the match and tossed it. Vibrant flames filled the sky and cloud of smoke filled the air.
A dozen red roses laid at her doorstep along with some sort of calling card. She bent down to read it. "I'll be coming for you next." The past few months she had feared for her life but this was the first time it had been made a reality. Everybody else was dead and she was ready to die too.
The apron laid across the kitchen table. An entire day of cooking had gone to waste but she didn't mind. She'd missed her husband while he was gone and he was home; that was all that mattered. She welcomed his gentle touch.
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writing since 2011 · 20 entries · 20 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Heather showed up.
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20days written
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the words Heather reaches for
filledbeautifulbodybookdifferencessacrificefriendsfamilypersonalgainskinthoughtspainfulobeydirectionunhappy