"an intense and irresistible desire for freedom"
~-~-~-~-~
When Eliana was 5 her family was betrayed by the people she now knows as family. But she quickly learned that family is just a word, not a promise and that a house doesn't mean a home.
Fam...
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My head is killing me.
It literally feels like someone is inside of it trying to break out.
Or maybe that's just all my memories being all jumbled and refusing to come to the surface of my mind.
I remember more than I did before I went unconscious at least so that's a plus.
Always look at life like the glass is half full instead of empty.
Who am I kidding, the glass is never half full.
At least not for me.
Life always somehow, someway find it's way into screwing up my life more and more with every breath I take.
And it's often that I wish my most recent breath was my last.
Wishful thinking I guess because it hasn't come true yet only almost, multiple times.
I groan as I feel the cold familiar concrete floor against my my right cheek as well as the entire front of my body.
This isn't the first time i've woken up like this after a beating and i'm positive it won't be the last by a long shot.
I'm thankful for the cold floor as it somehow dampens the pain I feel in my entire body because the pain isn't the worst part about waking up after being so brutally abused that you convince yourself that going unconscious is the best way out at the moment.
The worst part about waking up like this is that I have no clue about how long i've been out.
Has it been minutes?
Hours?
Days?
I never know until I can find my phone so that's what I need to do right now.
I need to check the time on my phone.
I slowly crack my right eye open and all I see is darkness which indicates that it is night.
I have been out for at least 12 hours judging by the light outside considering I got home around 6 am.
But then again it could have been days but a minimum of 12 long hours on this concrete floor of my lovely room.
I place my palms on the floor and take a few deep breaths through my mouth since I can't breath through my nose.
A memory flashes in my mind and I remember my nose making contact with the kitchen floor and the crack from it being broken.
I take a few more breaths to try and control the pain i'm in before I try to push up of the floor.
I want to scream from the pain shooting all across my body from every nerve ending.
But I don't.
If it's one thing I can handle, it is pain.
I can take it, no need to worry about poor little me.
