Hope is for the brave.
Crystal is not brave enough.
Crystal is hopeless.
She wakes up in the morning crying and that is exactly how she goes back to sleep.
Her only escape is the Café near her school, a boy she just met and whatever else happens a...
I'm lying on the cold floor surrounded by darkness. I'm here for I don't know how many hours. I don't feel anything, I can't feel anything. Some tears have dried on my cheeks but I can't remember myself crying.
I think it's one of those times when you're trying to sleep while you're staring at the ceiling but you can't really; so you spend hours and hours without even realizing it, by just staring at the ceiling, losing the sense of time. You're thinking but, when you stop doing that, you can't remember what you were thinking of, or if you were thinking at all. You can't even remember if you had slept, but you're pretty sure you hadn't.
So this is surely one of those times. Well, except for the part in which you're looking at the ceiling. I can't really do it providing that the room is dark as hell. Light can't come in from anywhere; not even from the keyhole.
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My back is killing me. I need to stretch but I can't stand up. The room's ceiling is too short. Well, it's not even a room actually; it's too small to be consideres as a room. That's where he puts me when I ''disobey'' him.
I never really disobeyed him, but for my father disobeying may be being late 1 minute for the lunch or forgetting to brush your teeth. It's always how he feels that right moment. He wasn't always like that, but I guess people do change.
I'm thirsty and hungry and I don't know when he's going to get me out of here. The most he had ever kept me in here was 2 days. That was the worst time. I have forgotten the reason why he put me here but I'm sure it wasn't something so important. He just felt like doing it.
I move my head a little and I immediately feel my nape hurt. Memories of the previous night violate my mind. Anger, pain, tears. Its' always this triptych, in that exact order, the one thing sequences the other.
I'm crying again. And the reason why I'm crying is not because of the pain, but because I'm losing hope. I used to have hope, hope that all this will someday end ans i will finally feel free again. But now, I'm determined that it won't. I want to believe that it will stop, I need it, but I can't. Right now I'm just not so optimistic. I'm trying to get myself prepared for the hardest because being prepared for the hardest is like stop being vulnerable. Being prepared for the hardest makes you appreciate the best more.
I never had something that i could appreciate in my life. Well, I used to; but now all I receive is hatred. My dad hates me, my brother hates me, and for God's sake, even some of my neighbours and my teachers seem to hate me! However, I don't think that I hate them; I don't think that I'm capable of doing such thing. On the contrary, I love them. Not all of them (No one can possibly love Mr. Jenkins, the math teacher. He's nuts); but I do love my brother even though he treats me like that, and I like some of my neighbors. And though I don't love my father, I can't hate him either, not after all these memories I keep hidden in my mind. The truth is that I don't feel anything. When it comes to my father it's just a blank; a big fat blank.
