nathalie
It was my first shot of whiskey. The taste was awful and I felt completely sinful for allowing it in my system. My innocence was becoming drunk. Was I drunk? I was so naive. So this was the monster that took him over...
It was half time. I hadn't made a single shot yet! Here I was, trying to prove myself to the world that I was some big shot, that I could to it. But, really, who was I kidding? I wasn't meant for sports at all and that was the sad truth.
It hit me suddenly! looking around the room, seeing the robotic heads scribble the same monotonous crap I realized I wasn't supposed to be in here. I was supposed to be out there doing saving them. This is the exact "out-of-the-box" thinking that got him killed. I was willing to take the risk.
He says he was driven to madness. That I, his wife, drove him to madness. Ha! I laugh at the idea, he's such an ignorant fool. Couldn't he see my very mental capabilities were destroyed because of him? It's a crazy thing, madness.
"I want that one," she said with a gleam in her eyes. I knew it was the perfect gift for her. The doll was her twin, same ocean blue eyes, porcelain flawless skin, rosy cheeks. Except the doll would never die, and little did she know...she was.
"Let go! Let go of it before it breaks!" I continued yelling. And she let go. The vase broke. My mother's favorite vase broke into a million pieces. Little did I know that the incident would be a foreshadow to my relationship with my sister.
She was looking through the lens carefully, adjusting the microscope from time to time.
"Do you see anything yet?" I asked impatiently. The look in her eyes said it all: I was pushing it. I'm so used to being in the front wheel, to taking charge. It was hard seeing someone else doing 'my' work.
There's just this agonizing pain that won't go away. I see these tears dripping down my bronze skin and I hate it all. The weakness, the tears, and the color of my skin. No one knows "what" I am. I don't even know.
The humorous entanglement I had gotten myself into didn't seem so humorous now. I was like a dog trying to go beyond the leash that restrained me. Pulling, yanking, with all my passion and might...only to get tangled.
I was pleased with the arrangement, but not satisfied. I still felt empty, alone as if something had been left unresolved. I couldn't show this, of course. My true emotions beaming would cause a disrupt in the fake balance we had worked so hard to obtain.
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