Where did you go?

I don't know how to start. For once, sitting here and writing this, no words will come to me. I know what I want to say and I know what I should say. "Hate" isn't a part of it. I won't lie, I can't stand the fact that I don't remember the last time you talked to me, let alone looked at me. I loved and still love you. I'm disappointed that the promise of loving me forever failed on your part. Should I put away the ring? Should I burn your shirt? I waited for 3 months to still have no word from you. I saw you online and tried to talk to you and you ignored me. I don't understand what's going on. How many months has it been now? I really can't count. I know we talked around Easter but that was so long ago that it pains me to think of it.

You know, you ruined my dreams last week. You told me how much you hated me. You told me that everything you'd said was a lie. I remember being told that I was good for nothing, a whore and should be put out of my misery. Do you really feel like that? Was I just dreaming it? There's always some truth in dreams and the very thought of this dream being true had me crying. I cried myself back to sleep only for you to tell me again how much you can't stand me. It made me feel pathetic. I still feel pathetic.

There's a guy at work. He reminds me of you. It's not an exact match but it works all the same. His bright blue eyes remind me of your fantastic chocolate brown ones. That sounds strange, right? This is when I shrug and tell you that I don't know why because honsetly, I don't understand how he reminds me of you. Oh god...please come back. He brings back images of you that bring back memories that are missed.

I'm sorry, I'm tired so this isn't going as well as I wanted it to. All in all, I'm saying that I miss you and want you to come back. I'm sorry for being such a bad person. Please, at least tell me what's going on...

Bitch

Bitch.
I could see it in his his eyes. That's what he wanted to call me. His jaw was set. "I'm serious." My idiotic smile stayed plastered on my face. My body was betraying me again. No, wrong, she was betraying me. Reese's grip tightened on my shoulders. He was trying so hard not to hurt me. I could see that too. Oh God, why? I should have kept my mouth shut. The same mouth that Reese wanted to hit with a closed fist. He hated me. He had to. Lisa finally got him to let go. In my head was an uttered 'thank-you' but outloud, it was like it didn't bother me that I'd just hurt a good friend. I acted like it was nothing. I walked straight out of that class and screamed at her. What had she done?
I smiled at everyone, made nice with them all. By time I reached my locker, I was in control again. Oh, what had she done? She's ruined everything...
"Sara, what is on tomorrow's Chemistry test?" It was Kira. Just across the hall. She didn't see the turmoil that lay behind me. She couldn't have. Which is why I smiled at her. Which is why I told her politely that I didn't know. Which is why I didn't explain myself when she asked 'why' after I'd told her I was walking home instead of taking the transit.
"I just don't feel like taking the bus." Liar. Now she was turning her attitude against me from the reccesses of my own mind. Shut up is all I told her.
I said my goodbyes as Reese and Lisa walked up to the lockers. I looked at Lisa and I hoped that it was an apology that she saw in my eyes. I hoped she knew... Then, I was out the school door. This is when I made up my mind. This is when I put a lot of thought into what had happened and what chaos I've caused over the years. This is when I'd made my final decision. It only took a half hour. The same amount of time it took me to get home.
By the time I walked into the door, I'd made a plan. First was to write this. I needed to explain. I needed people to understand. After this, I'll take my dogs for a walk, they should like that. I'll do my chores, won't my parents be happy? Well, until they walk into my room. They'll find me on my bed. I'll look asleep. It'll look peaceful. I don't want them to think I was in pain. I don't want my mother to be left with that image.

The pills are in my hand now and she's screaming at me. Begging me not to do it. She's trying to take over but she won't. I've locked her away and made the barrier just right. It gives me plenty of time.
I'm already getting sleepy. Dreamy even. She's still screaming. She hasn't given up. How pathetic. This is my body.
I'll lay down now. It's too hard to write.

She lay down above the covers and curled up so as to make the finding easier on her parents. The pills were almost done with her. She was almost gone. She closed her eyes and smiled. The last thing she heard from inside her own mind was a five letter word. Then, they were both gone. One living beneath the surface that we knew as Sara. It's amazing that not a soul had known. Maybe now they do for the only thing left of Sara and her hateful companion is an unspoken, five letter word.

Bitch.

Inheritance

Adara Wynn pulled up in front of a newly built ranch house. The plot of land has been in her family for centuries however, she'd never been to it before. Not until her mysterious grandfather left it to her in his will. William Wynn had died in the same fire that had burnt down the original log house. Adara was told that he'd been sleeping when the fire started from a stray ember that fell on the carpet burning down to the dry wood floor and soon igniting the entire house. He had had no time to escape. This story was plausible but at the same time made no sense. Adara had never heard of a simple ember doing more than making a small hole in the fabric it touches which was not remotely highly flammable.

The young woman sighed and shook the mental image of an old man being slowly smothered and burned to death trapped in his own bed. "Oh god..." She hit herself on the forehead and slid out of the car, keys in hand. Adara sighed as the image of an old man filled her mind again. This is what she pictured her grandfather to have looked like, after all, she hadn't seen him since she was three years old. Her mother had not allowed any photos of him in the house. It had always baffled Adara that her mother could be so cruel to her dead husband's father. At least, they assumed Christophe Wynn was dead. He had left when Adara was just a baby. Her mother, Linda, had not a clue as to why he had disappeared. He had seemed so excited to be a father and to a girl no less.

Adara shook her head hard, making her white blonde hair whip her face. All the depressing thoughts seems to fall away with each turn of her head, clearing it and leaving room for the matters at hand. She took a step away from the beat up little Saturn and fumbled for the keys of the empty house. Not even twenty steps from the car, Adara was knocked from her feet by a very large...something. It had hit her so fast and hard that she had no time to figure out what it was. However, she knew it had claws. The sharp nails were biting into the skin of her cheek and stomach. Adara struggled and pushed against its chest. She stopped short when she felt the flesh beneath a shirt. It was muscular and smooth, the sternum flat above the stomach. Her hands slid down and felt abdominal muscles. It was human.

The shock broke over her and she began to struggle again. Her knee connected with something soft and fleshy that made the man cry out in pain and jump back from her with a look of hurt, disgust, lust and pure hatred. Even though the look he was giving her, a stranger, made no sense, it was an accessory he wore that caught her attention. There was blood all over him. The front of his shirt was drenched in it and his arms were splattered. As Adara's eyes followed the trail of crimson upwards, her hands checked her face and stomach. There were long raised areas but no open cuts. The thought that the blood wasn't her own, filled her with relief. That is, until her eyes reached the man's mouth which was almost dripping someone's life energy. Adara's eyes went wide before she screamed and scuttled backwards. The beast pummeled into her again, this time trapping her legs. He began to grind his pelvis into hers and when she continued to scream, he swore and covered her mouth. No matter how hard she bit him, he didn't let go. In fact, he howled with pleasure. Eventually, he began to rip her jeans to shreds. She started to fight but to no avail and soon tired. Her mind became numb and before fading to black, the last thing she remembered was the absense of the man's weight and then being lifted into the air.

Life's Like A...

Life's like a merry-go-round. You climb onto the painted horse and start to spin with a bunch of other people. The young yell for it to go faster, the old yell for it to slow down. However, it does neither. For the entire ride it stays the same pace. The crowd around the ride blurs if you're not looking at something standing still. And then, even though the ride's going at a moderate speed, it seems to take forever. When will you get off? When do you get on? Questions that float through the people's minds. It's always numbing for those people. But then, there's always that small crowd that feels the need to make life a roller coaster. They hop into one of the cars and struggle to hold on for dear life. At first it's fun but when the track starts to wobble, they stop squealing in delight and screaming in horror. What had happened to this fun ride? Their eyes would go wide as they saw the next bend. The rail twisted and unusable, the track completely gone over a 100ft drop. These people fly off the track and find that their ride is forever over. The merry-go-round finally stops and those people get off with a sense of boredom but happiness. The ride is finally over. Now, the only problem is, what about those people that don't choose a ride? Not the merry-go-round. Not the roller coaster. Not even the bumper cars. Those seem to be the people that are lining up for the haunted houses with the hall of mirrors. One wrong turn and you hit a wall and lucky if they get out at all let alone without marks on them. Yes, that is life. Merry-go-rounds, roller coasters, and haunted houses. I suppose it's time to go to the carnival.

In the Dark

Drip. Drip. Drip. I don’t know where the sound came from. The room was too dark, too empty. I had awoken to this noise and sat listening to it for what seemed like forever. Was I finally in hell? After everything I’d done, was this my punishment? My stomach growled and sent pangs of hunger through my body. In the distance I could hear a constant whirring sound that filled my ears and gave me hope to life in this damned place. For that’s what it was; a place for the damned. I suppose that would include me, for all I’d done in the past to both the guilty and innocent.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Again the sound echoed off of the walls. I’d originally signed it off to be a faucet but it sounded odd. There was no metal ping that would give evidence of there being a sink. Not even the tiny hollow thud of a plastic basin. I’d been in here for what seemed like years but must have been only days and I’d never noticed this before. Some hunter I was. I listened closely and realized that if it was a faucet, the water was hitting the floor for, there was a faint splash and the smell of wet concrete seemed to finally be discovered. My senses were coming back! I’d sat here in the darkness with no sense of touch or smell. My head seemed to have been detached from my body.

There was a sudden burst of light at the end of the room. Then another burst of light above my head. She walked in then and stared down at me with a triumphant grin of revenge at its finest. This blonde bombshell had once looked angelic. Now she looked evil. Is that how I’d looked at so many people when I’d gone to work over the years? A foot connected with my chin causing my head to connect with the wall. I tried to move away from the next blow but found that my legs and arms were immobile. This witch had sure done a number on me. She beat on me for a long time before she finally stood up to inspect her work. Her hands were soaked in blood and when she wiped the sweat from her brow, a line of red became streaked across her pale skin. She grinned down at me and shoved something under my chin. A brief moment of pain shot through me before I toppled over onto my side. She laughed maliciously and left the room, the light still on, the door still open.

Drip. Drip. Drip. I could see where that noise was coming from now. Across from me, hanging from the wall were 4 limbs of the male variety. I could tell the story behind every scar on those arms. It hit me like a shock and I realized what had happened. As I lay there on the floor, my recognition of my own death pounding in my head, the limbs continued to drip their red, gory mess to the stone floor. In the end, I suppose I was in the waiting room of hell. Where I was I going now, was the real deal and as I tumbled down into its fiery depths, I could still here it. Drip. Drip. Drip.

A Fragile World

A fragile heart,
Held in a fragile hand.
Oh how smart,
Screaming across the land.

He's gone and broke it,
Her chest has a hole now.
Deep and dark; a giant pit,
Gathered around now; a giant crowd.

She won't feel sorry for herself,
It was his fault to begin with.
What's left of her heart is on the shelf,
Taken aback; she's begun the tithe.

He broke her so she broke him,
A small lover's quarrel has ended all.
With not but a whim,
It ended with an all out brawl.

~All things break in a fragile dream~

Goodbye Without a Kiss

Enough's enough
No need to push
I've taken my stuff
Now I tell you shush

I don't want to hear it
You've shown me what you think
Your heart's like a dark pit
We no longer have that link

I've seen the hate
I've felt that shove away
Now it's too late
I don't think I should stay

Don't lie to me
I'm not that stupid
You think you hold my heart's key
Changed the locks, I've gone and did

Screw this I won't take such shit
I'm done, I'm gone
I'll feel pain (a little bit)
But you know, I'm not your pawn

You'll say something mean
That's nothing new
You're just a cruel teen
I should have known that too

You're a jerk to the core
And an asshole too
I won't say any more
It won't get through

Just one last thing
(I know you won't take this)
You're not king
This is goodbye without a kiss.