"𝑰𝒇 𝑰 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕, 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏"
☆.｡.:★.｡.:☆
"Why do you avoid meeting my eyes?" His voice came out as an inaudible whisper, hi...
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“Nostalgia is abeautiful lie dressed up in sepia ”
• ── • ── •
Did you see that?
Those fallen angels, we call them demons.
Demons under someone's else skin
Angel sent you on the earth to fight those demons, because you are strong.
You are a strong angel
My angel baby
Mishka sucked a sharp breath, opening her eyes wide. The bed held her, captive bound with the invisible chain, the mirthless voice of hers turned inaudible, heedless tears pooling into her green orbs. She curls herself in a ball, aware of the demons lurking around in the corners of her room, the invisible rope tied around her ankles, stopping her to do any kind of movement. She rubbed her palm below the knees trying to calm the shivers over those veins and bones. The worst nightmare, coming around embracing her with fear, scaring her to death, choking her till she can't breathe. The pool of tears already dried in her eyes, they didn't dare to flow down, there was no point. She hates tears, she hates showing her Vulnerability, hates the way those unknown demons are not leaving her, she hates every moment when the familiar voices echo in her dreams, turning them into a nightmare and she hates it more when those familiar demons don't show their faces.
Placing her cheek between her knees, she watched the moon, the open window of her room allowing the source of light into the dark room, the shine of the moon driving the demons away, at least she wasn't alone.
The moon is there with her... as always.
Sniffing slightly, she straightened up. Her feet itself leading towards the study table, her wavy hair curtaining her face, she didn't mind though. The white nightgown glows as she switches on the yellow lamp on the study table, taking out the small brown dairy from the drawer she opened it.
The pages are yellowish, the texture is rough, crinkles all over the page, and ink of pen engraved over them.
Tucking the baby hairs behind her ears, she caresses the page once before grabbing a pen. The blue ball pen becomes the puppet of her fingers as she writes.
Hey!
It's been a while since I met you, I am sorry for that, it's just I was a bit busy.
Nope, not busy, I was confused!
Yeah, that would be the right word.
Well, I came here back at my usual time, but for a different purpose.
I saw them again, those familiar voices, they were so scary.
