i am taking heavy breaths. my lungs are not cooperating with me. my hands are shaking while i rest them firmly on the floor of my bedroom.
tears have been steaming down my face for a while now.
its been very fun.
my heart is feeling like a hand, has a hold of it. my heart feels out of place.
and i remember seeing his face, i remember him punching me until his hands were bleeding. i remember his blue varsity jacket that he preciously wore everyday to school, and how he slung that over my shoulders, as whispering my name in my ear.
i cried to his voice running through my brain. his cracking laughter reaching every bit of my body.
the awful tingly feeling of hatred and fear is returning to my body. i can feel all of it.
and it becomes too much. i start hitting my head against the wall, i try to choke myself, scratch myself.
overcoming pain with pain.
what the fuck is wrong with me.
YOU ARE READING
Memoir Of An Insane
Short StoryKayla is the definition of messed up. After the traumatic events in her life, she is admitted in a mental facility, where she begins writing a diary. There, she writes down her thoughts, emotions and life. ;contains diary entries, texts, events, p...
