Amaris drooped her head down to the cold surface of her knees, shivering in utter dread and fear. The hours she spent were blurred in her memory. She could hear the mice squirming and squealing in the space and the cockroaches' legs every so often fluttering on her hands. It wasn't fair. Why bother to read when all you see is the pale back of the pages? It's reading a book while being blind.
The door clicked, and fluorescent light glimpsed into the closet. "Monster Time" was over. The skittish girl flung herself out of the abyssal room, sighing with relief. Her mother hovered her head over Amaris, glaring at her in disgust.
"You show no growth, pathetic slug."
Amaris couldn't comprehend another word from any being. Her mind was booming with nothing but static.
It had been night, and curiosity sparked inside of Amaris's head. The book. Amaris limped weakly to the front door as soon as her mother trotted upstairs. She twisted the doorknob with her frail hands, and there was the book, the only thing Amaris was looking forward to. She knelt to read it, pulling it into her lap. Upon opening the book, she grazed her eyes upon the following words, "Pray to the moon, it'll grant you your revenge on a golden platter."
Amaris could only hope. She didn't believe in gods, deities, or anything philosophical. But the only thing keeping her around was hope, which was fraying away little by little.
Maybe this would refuel her life.
"I doubt it," she muttered, sighing through her teeth.
She shut the book, lifting her scarred body off the porch wood only to return to her dog bed in her so-called, "home."
Why the hell had she even referred to this as home before?
This wasn't home.
Amaris drifted her feet upon the wood of the porch, then into the domain she went. Her limp and crippled body settled on the old dog bed. She rested her hands beneath her head, staring at the ceiling.
She hated everything; her mom, herself, her life, and the world for not reaching into the sea of an abyss and insufferable pain she was swimming in. She'd hope to wake up on a soft bed with a caring family every day.
"But beggars can't be choosers," she whimpered, shutting her eyes tightly to avoid thinking further.
"A dream will flip to your insecurities with a sugar-coated meaning, while a nightmare will address them."
YOU ARE READING
dear amaris.
Storie brevi"Pray to the moon, it'll grant you your revenge on a golden platter." Amaris, a young and skittish girl was forced to live her fears all because of her very mother. Dried blood swished in the river. Was this revenge? "It's justice, Amaris." ...
