Inside the mind of a shorthaired girl

A bruised mind

Note*: All of these stories are very short and they represent certain events. This is the first one of them and as I will publish more, you can spot some connection between the stories. It may seem chaotic at first but I choosed to make distinct event stories, not a single long one.

Anyway, enjoy! :)

***Do you know how it is to wake up every single morning with the same thoughts in your mind? How it is to feel the pain deep within your chest before actually waking up?

It was another day from the same series of days with no beginning and no end. There were about 1020 km separating her from the troubles she felt. She never thought she will feel love again. At least not like that. Some would say that when a man falls in love, his woman becomes his weakness and from her point of view, the man a woman loves, becomes her strength. Well, not in this case.

She was born 23 years ago without her will. Her parents chose that instead of her. Every day it goes by, she swings between the will to live and to end her misery. Her life wasn't always like that. She experienced happiness, anger, love, sadness and desperation like any other human being. Her life is like many others probably so what made her different? Nothing. She realized that a few years ago. When she realized she is a mortal human. But she didn't change. She never learns.

Criss was a little girl living in her dreamy world but that world of hers started collapsing since a young age. Everyone that went into her life collected a piece of her at a time. There is not much left of her to give.
She looked at her phone checking the time. It was 8:32 in the morning. She woke up all of the sudden at the sounds of her mother crying. She jumped out of bed and went straight to the source of the noises.

Her eyes were wide open at the sight of her dad beating the hell out of her drunk mother. For a second she stood there frozen like it was unreal. It wasn't the first time it had happened but every time she saw those events, her heart got another scar. "stop it!" she felt pain in her left cheek. In the struggle to separate her parents, she got hit by her father.

Her mother was lying on the floor close to the bedroom bed. He left them both on the floor. She tried to caress her mother but she wasn't moving anymore. "is she dead?"- she thought to herself. But she knew that she can't move because she was too drunk. Too drunk in the morning.

Criss always tried to find happiness in little things because she had no other choice. She inspired pity to her friends probably. Of course she dreamed of a normal family, like the families of her friends but that never happened. A violent father and an alcoholic mother were here parents. She understood both of them--Like she understood everyone for leaving her to dust. She knew her mother started to drink because of her father lack of attention and also, she understood her father for treating her like shit because she never tried to give up alcohol. But did they understood her?

How it was to see her mother black-out drunk in the afternoon with pills near her bedside? How it was to see her father beating the shit out of her mother until her eye was black? Finally one day, her mother left home. She returned after one week, her father beat her, she drank again, and so on. A vicious circle that never seemed to end.

She liked to write short stories in the heat of the events. Her feelings and wounds have to be fresh open, so she wouldn't cheat with the description of events. Like her first love. That lasted three years. When he left her without any apparent reason, he left her half-hearted. Scar, after scar, after scar. But who is to blame? Criss is the one to blame. That happened a long time ago. She decided to cut off her long brown hair. Her short and red hair fitted her better. She became slowly numb. She had a lot of relationships and she felt only passing lust for them. She would be a hypocrite if she said she had never cheated. She did. But not the one she loved.

She cheated for revenge. Revenge from her point of view at the time, in the mean-time, she realized she made mistakes like all others. The only time she felt alive was in bed. If the hollow in her chest could be measured, it would have probably swollen an entire galaxy. The only way she knew how to keep someone close to her, was by using her body. That happened a few times in her past. She knew how to make a man feel good in her presence. She was dumped, and she dumped at her turn.

For her, every person in her life was special, but she wrote about few of them. She never knew how to express feelings of love for a person. No one taught her that. Lust was her thing, not love. Slowly she started to hate that feeling.