concrete battles

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her life was like concrete, it was always stuck onto something, it always caused ridiculous troubles. she'd run off from places from places, escaping the one thing that ruined her life eight years ago; the thing that caused the beginning of her panic attacks, the thing that started everything. she was willing to start everything over but that 'thing' kept coming back, was she willing to run now?

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     [Previous Story line/Plot]:  “What are you doing here?” I felt the sudden urge to bite onto my callous fingers, which supposedly could control my rapid emotions from bursting. Everything drastically changed, the room felt hollow, the sounds which previously penetrated the room soon vanished into thin air. My brows creased, the hairs tightening as I shook my head, furiously. Everything seemed blurry, the salty water was held against my eyes, and the corner of my eye was glistening as the slightly cracked light bulb reflected it. I tried to comprehend on what was happening at this moment.

            “You remember, don’t you?” His hoarse throat spoke out, breathlessly, it sounded as if he had just run a marathon. I nodded, credulously in response, biting my plump lip harder than usual; I felt the iron liquid touch the bottom surface of my front teeth, indicating that my teeth slipped into my skin. I felt like I was trying to inflict pain onto myself. I remembered every single bit of that horrifying scene that occurred eight years ago, which caused me to be the kind of person I am now. I’ve been living with a panic disorder ever since that happened, every noise around me made me shudder.

           “It ruined me.” My hardened finger gently pecked my bottom lip, the blood transporting to it. “You ruined me.” I harshly, emphasized, the trapped tear soon slid down my rosy cheek. I shamelessly wiped the tear off, before it could slide down the full length of my cheek. 

        “What does this make us?” The clack of his brown suede shoes flowed to my ears, the distance between us, decreasing.

             “I d-on’t know. I'-m sc-ared.”

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What do you think of this? 

I would appreciate some feedback, if you have any. I'm not the best writer, so please forgive if I made any mistakes or make any mistakes as I write the chapters. I'll dedicate to anyone because I simply do not have any friends, well, I'm new here and this is my first story so don't be harsh on me. Please vote if you like it, if you don't want to comment. Anyway, thank you for reading! c: x

Love, Chrissie. x 

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