Trigger Warning: There's some pretty messed up shit in here. This is just vent.
The girl didn't know where she was. It was dark and cold and she was drowning. Where did the air that was inside her lungs go? How had she gotten here? She had so many questions and not enough time to get the answers. The girl could feel herself suffocating, and it got to a point where she shouldn't hold the breath anymore. Her mouth opened, and she sucked in water.
There was no oxygen down here. There was no light, no sound, no sense of direction. So why did she feel so relieved? Was it because she was dying? Was it because she had let go and accepted her failed fight? A light breeze moved her hair, and the girl opened her eyes after another moment.
She was breathing. But how was she breathing? Wasn't she drowning moments ago? Where was the water, the darkness, the weightless feeling of floating? Had she died? Her clothes weren't even damp. Was this her serenity? Her everlasting peace?
Of course not. The girl had simply adapted to the world she was given. There was no air, and she had been dying, so she created her own air. No longer was the girl suffocating under a weight that didn't belong to her - that should never have belonged to her. She took a deep breath and created her own destiny in a world that has it all written down.
She remembers the pain very clearly. It had been embedded into her memory, into her very being. The girl took this pain and used it to push forward, to escape the past and restart everything. Sometimes, it became too much, and the pain overtook her. It crushed her, and put her down, making her relive what had happened, over and over and over again. It hurt, and it was so powerful and make it stop please, I can't take it anymore.
And then she was okay. Her emotions have been shifted so that her body was in it's own balance again. This happened sometimes, where she would cry and she would see herself as weak and unable to carry on. And then she would be fine. She learned to see herself in another light, watching herself through the third person. The girl was just another character, a pawn in this life that had no control over her actions.
Time and time again, she would face the same peril, the same lesson, the same, the same the same. It never changed, it was always the same. The girl became numb to the challenge, facing it with a face of stone or a pain she couldn't explain. What was the lesson again? She couldn't remember, she hadn't been paying attention.
Ugly. Lazy. Useless. Coward.
She'd gotten used to insulting herself and making herself feel like she was nothing special. And she wasn't. Sometimes, her energy was drained, and for what? She had done nothing to cause this, but it was her fault, it was always her fault. It was her fault she couldn't do anything, it was her fault she wasn't happy, when she was given everything she could have possibly wanted.
That didn't change when he would come into her room. He wouldn't hurt her but she would hurt. The girl was empty. There was a short time when it stopped and then it started again. Pain and pain and pain and stop please, I can't take it anymore, it hurts. She was so empty, she was hurting so much, why did this happen to her? But she endured it to protect them. The two girls she loved. She was special, but there was nothing special about her. Why did this happen? Why was she the special one? The girl couldn't do it anymore. If she didn't stop it, it never would have ended. She isn't convinced it has. She was the special one. She hated being the special one.
Is that why she was so violent? Is that why she wanted to hurt all those boys? No, that was a different kind of angry. She was in pain, wasn't she? It was all overwhelming. Seventh grade was so horrible.
But now she was here. And she failed her challenge and she was in trouble. She didn't mean it, she was feeling so empty. She was in so much pain. The girl couldn't do anything, Everytime she wanted to move, she would be unable to. Stop eating. Stop watching TV. Stop stop stop, and get to work. But she never did.
And now she's here again. Writing into the void and wondering if anyone would read it? No, she wouldn't allow anyone to. It was too scary, and she was a coward. She was nothing, and her pain would consume her until she was nothing. Why did I start writing this? This was meant to be uplifting, but now it's unstoppable.
No one would read something like this. If they made it to the end, the girl would need to give them a gift. Distractions were a comfort for the girl, she was able to use them to keep herself busy when she needed to be doing other things like her work. There was so much more. There was so much more to her. Is she a husk of what she was before? An empty shell? A pretender, a happy face?
Pretender. Mask. Fake.
She uses all the tools she's acquired to survive this world, but she wants to be born into the next with no pain. No emptiness. Please, God, gods, give her her soul back. Without it, she is so numb. The girl loves her brothers and sisters, and her friends, but she has no love to spare for those that would be her lover. She is scared to have children, for she fears she wouldn't be able to love them. She wants and wants and she's so selfish because she doesn't have the capacity to feel for them in the way she should.
There is so much more to write, but there are not the words that were needed to convey it. Her story is an abyss covered in rainbows and clouds. She is darkness. She is nothing, she can feel herself drowning. There is no water, but the weight is the same. One day, the girl will be gone. One day, she will leave and never look back, and that day will be her savior.
