I can feel it eating away at me. Slowly but surely, pushing me to the brink of insanity. I try to avoid it every way I can, but it always comes back to bite me in the ass. Even as I write this now, I will be haunted in the morning by feelings so overwhelming that my throat will close up and everything will feel dark. There's not much I can do about it anymore. It's taken over everything I know. It's made me a very angry girl. But there's nothing I can do. I can only sit and wait for it to attack again, pulling at every corner of my brain. If there is a merciful God, He'd end this all right now-my life and the attacks; however, no such thing exsists. Therefore, I will continue to watch myself fall downwards until I hit the bottom and I am bound by the whitest jacket I've ever seen, locked in a clean room I've never encountered. I will continue to cry and plead for things to get better, but they don't seem like they will. I will continue to try and hold on to that small grip of hope I have left, but it'll only get smaller unti there's no more left. Maybe it'd be better if I took a glass to my head, or shoved a knife into my chest. Anything. Take 7 capsules of Advil, stick my head inside the microwave, toss my body out the window. Anything to keep me away from this deadly poison.
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Short Stories
Historia CortaA collection of creepy short stories that I tend to write when bored or stuck with all my other stories. I've decided to share them with you! :)
