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Words.

Many people think the female has insecurities no matter what. She can have the most perfect body, flawless face, extremely smart, amazing reputation, But still hates something. Most of the time, that theory is true. Rarely its not, narcissist. I for one is neither. I'm just words you read in your mind over and over to hope to see a secret, something relatable to show to your Tumblr friends.

But in reality, words you show people from a screen aren't remembered. Just vaguely distant from their memory. The voice you hear as a baby is an example. Your mothers soothing voice as she sang you a lullaby. Unrecognizable today isn't it?

Your age shows how much you've matured. From your rather younger times were spent outside. Running in the sun after the refraction light on the bubbles you chase, the green grass catches your bruised knees as you trip over a tree root. You stare at the ground for few moments, at a small worm breaking to shelter from the slimy, dirty, disgusting creature disturbing its nice day. You turn around to see your dad running to you, asking if you're alright. You laugh and run into his leg, grasping around him, you share "I love you" repeatedly until he picks you up and spins you, then takes you inside and gives you a bath. The smell of Mr.Bubble fills your nose, and the crazy soap hairdo's pour your heart.

Next thing you see is a rushing car, your dads hand on your chest. Turning to your dad, you scream and a flash of headlights blast. Then followed to your mothers crying, with you in a hospital bed.

As the narrator, I challenge you to a duel. This voice which will bring you tears. Oh yes, the salty tears from experiences you've never had. I'll give you constant emotional break downs to stories that flow through my mind as you sob your unforgettable tears.

I'm the voice you will never get out of your head, I will consume you. Making you come back for more and more. But always making you hate me, but crave me so much that every time you hear the words "May death due us part", our duel is remembered as a symbol of a love/hate relationship. I live off you, while you die off me.

But this is the introduction, I cant make you cry with a few words, a small space to give you just enough of room to make you think you're safe? No. I'm the author, I decide what pain I indulge you with.

Suppose the man of your dreams approaches you. Twinkling eyes of his, stare down yours as his began to tear up. He grabs your cheek. Caressing it ever so softly, you close your eyes and lean in. Your heart begins to thump out of your chest. You hear the pounding of the blood in your ears. You feel your self turning red as you get closer to him. You then hold his neck, the warm of it makes your hands its home. He whispers in your ears "Ive been waiting all my life to do this". as soon as you feel his breathe hit your face, you get goose bumps. After all this time you waited for his attention, he finally gives in. He grabs your hip with his other hand. Pulls you closer then you already were. The hand on your face stiffens. Grabbing your neck, he swings it around. Your hip twist and so does his face. The loving tenderness you once saw before is gone, he is unrecognizable. His eye twitches and soft lips turn wicked. The devilish grin stretches across his face. You feel the tears began to roll down your eyes. Every hit he makes on your face causes you to howl even more. He laughs at your pain and kicks your stomach. You fall to your side, shaking in fear. With one last kick to your head, you look up. His body is nothing but a shadow now. You blink once more, a new body has appeared. The figure of a goddess, spits on you. You blink once more and they're gone. You're gone. But wait, shaking. You open your eyes. he's there with tears kissing your face, Saying he's sorry. you smile, then realize you're trapped in again with his words and "Love" that you just cant escape. He made you feel perfect, but then so useless, gave you a reason, then took it.

So now I ask you, Did you cry? If not, I wouldn't expect you to. If yes, that wasn't even my best. You have to put your mind into the set of the character you're portraying as. You have to feel the part. Know the amount of stress the person is feeling. So now, I give you a break. I'll go, I'll leave you to your little shenanigans. Your dumb, small pitiful stories that you claim to have a deep, emotional feeling to. But they're just words you read. Nothing has meaning. You make your body feel numb while reading, but then when the story is over, you're lost. You became so distracted you never realized how detached from life you are. Just by one book, one chapter, one word made you like this.You feel like a monster, Everyone has left you. You're nothing. You can just fade away and no one would notice. Just by one mistake. One book. One chapter. One word.

A couple words you spent so long to remember. But really, in a year or so, you wont remember the story word for word. What's the point. They're just words. Just words. Words.