Short Stories

Blame It On Me

If pieces of me were being pulled apart as if someone dug their fingers against my skin grabbing a handful before ripping it from the muscles that are attached to it leaving behind strings of skin; muscles that they bit off; grabbing my arm where they took the skin and dug their teeth into it leaving the bone to be covered in dark crimson liquid that dripped down onto the muddy titles. The feeling of pain seemed to dwell down as if I became numb to the feeling once again. Looking in the mirror all I saw was a dark circle under one of my brown colored eyes while the other side was pure white, not exactly pure white that can be shone by either sunlight or flashlight; it's the totally opposite; didn't show life rather the dead; decaying bone that's holding growing moss in the eye socket.

They held me down when I fought back. They showed no emotions; no remorse when they took everything I needed, what I wanted. They ripped it out of my shaky fragile boney hands. I was left there with tears welled up in my eyes; I didn't dare let them escape. They always told me I was such a crybaby and that I shouldn't cry because something didn't go my way. They stated I have a good life and everything will be handed to me with each step I took in my lifetime. They told me not to experience my emotions rather to shut them down like they did.

The breeze they have surrounded themselves causes my mind to seem as if it's stuck in several hurricanes causing chaos while I am in the midst of it all. I can't simply walk in the path I've always wanted to walk down on. To ease m̶y̶ ̶m̶i̶n̶d̶; their mind was to walk down what they always led me to. A journey I never asked to be a part of. A journey they all failed at.

I̶t̶'̶s̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶m̶y̶ ̶f̶a̶u̶l̶t̶

Entirely they always told how pathetic I was; how I was such a disappointment to the family. They stated it was the reason why my father never showed up. Always preferred to stay back in the next town over. Poking fun at the fact their fathers were always there for them... C̶a̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶b̶l̶a̶m̶e̶ ̶m̶e̶;

At this point my knees buckled beneath me. The once dark crimson liquid seemed to reach down to them as tears fell down my decaying face. I did what they asked for; everything they asked for. Ignored the degradation of words; held in the emotions I had for every little possible thing; followed the path of failure they once endured. I did everything they asked for.

I was once free; once had freedom like nobody's business. I could raise my arms above my head, go onto the tips of my toes and spin like a ballerina. And I looked like a gazelle while doing it. I felt as if I could expand my wings far enough that nothing would happen to them, but I was wrong. Terribly wrong. I couldn't simply expand my white feather wings without someone snipping at them. Picking at them, plucking the feathers off one by one. If I couldn't feel the ever so slight pain it caused.

Simply I blame t̶h̶e̶m̶ myself. If it weren't for t̶h̶e̶m̶ me I wouldn't be stuck in this hole that t̶h̶e̶y̶ I had dug for me. I'm stuck in this pit of hell all because of m̶y̶s̶e̶l̶f̶ them. They can't blame me for their wrong doing. I was the one who succeeded in their failed attempt of living. And now I am stuck in this miserable pit of hell and the many thoughts of regret. What am I supposed to do now with their words stabbing me into my chest? It felt exactly like a dagger being plugged into the back. What will I do now...?