NOTHING COULD BREAK A BROKEN GIRL. BUT HE DID.
•°•
"Don't leave me." I repeat quietly, my voice basically dead of life and audibility.
And with that, my mind lacks of consciousness and I allow the darkness consume me.
But not before hearing a faint...
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•°•
MY MOM ALWAYS TOLD me I was born to be great. I was born to be a light in the world, a voice for people around this planet.
A shinning star and so many positive, heartwarming things that she never failed to say with a cheerful smile on her face and glistening hope in her eyes.
No matter how broken she was, she always displayed that smile that made everything seem okay.
She wanted me to still see the beauty behind her pain.
But even as much as I wanted to believe her, I knew those words were like watering a plant that had no roots. The words had no foundation, just like everything in my life.
I've grown up in an unstable, rocky and broken home.
I tried my best to believe in my Mom's words. I tried to inwardly sync with the hope and joy she held in her eyes anytime she looked at me.
But that was all before she was taken from me.
There was no hope again.
There still isn't.
My mind has become a house, where the walls are a constant reminder that I'm locked in a cage and I will never be able to get out.
I have to live with it.
Tossing on my bed from side to side, still fighting these horrific memories, I snap my eyes open. I can't remember the last time I properly slept. Or slept at all.
Insomnia has hassled me so much, it's hard to think I'll ever find peace and comfort in the other world sleeping transports humans to.
It's hard to think I'll ever drift into the dreamland and have an actual non-traumatized dream.
I know the answer.
I sit up from my bed and turn on the lamp on the nightstand. Averting my eyes to the weary clock hung on the wall of my room, I heave a out a sigh, seeing it's just some minutes past midnight.
I know there's no way i'll be able to go to sleep and even if I do, it'll be towards sunrise for an hour or less. I guess that's the only time my body and mind has agreed to give me rest.
Seeing I have little to no activity to occupy myself with, I grab the literature book I was reading earlier, before Draco came. I'll flip through the pages, until sleep will eventually engulf me.
After some minutes of reading, I got bored. I drop the book back on the nightstand, wishing I didn't return the romance and fantasy novels Mrs Madeline lended me— the owner of the Library in town.
I worked there for a short time, so she was fond of me to give me some books at any time. I was the one who stopped collecting them— mostly because I didn't want Draco to take out his anger on the innocent printed stories.
