My hope was false. My hope, rather than perching in my soul, lulled on my tounge waiting to be convulsed. Flying in and out of my mouth as reassurance to an other. Always to calm the nerves of my father or my mother. My hope can never be described as moving but rather an instrument used for soothing. Yes indeed my hope was untrue, but without false hope despair would ensue. So I kept false hope at tip of my tounge, so when needed, her song of lies could be sung.
-Me
*Iris's POV*
"Iris, Iris baby wake up" I rolled over trying to escape my mother's incessant shaking. She simply walked over to the other side of the bed and started shaking me again. I rolled flat onto my back but I kept my eyes closed. "Aghhhhhmmmm?" Something between a groan and a sigh left my mouth. No matter what it sounded like my mom knew it translated to 'why are you waking me up.' "Iris honey you have to get up. Its almost four in the afternoon and your father and I have something to tell you." I shook my head in protest, but in all truth I was already awake, becoming more lucid by the second. The last clouds of unconsciousness evaporating. "Okay, okay I'm up" I sighed. I heard my mother chuckle. It was her smug 'I knew I could do it' chuckle. She sighed in contentment, "Okay baby you get washed up then come downstairs, I'll put on a pot tea for you" I smiled, my mom knew that if she wanted me to join the land of the living I needed a cup of tea first. "Mmm okay mama thank you, I'll be right down." She patted my leg,"No problem baby." She crossed back over to the other side of the bed then continued out my room. The click of the door signalling that she was gone.
I stayed that way for a couple of minutes, laying flat on my back, eyes closed. I lay there looking at the black of my eyelids. Then I opened my eyes, seeing the black of my eyes. The same black I've been seeing for the past six years. The black that keeps me sleep for as long as possible so I don't have to see it. The same black that has me wishing that I don't have to wake up every morning. That black that makes me wish that I never will open my eyes again.
YOU ARE READING
My Savior Destroyed Me
RomanceIt's funny really, the bittersweet irony of it all. The fact that I was broken, and he came and glued the pieces back together, just to turn around and shatter me all over again.
