I love writing, but I also love taking breaks. But when i'm into a writing trance this thing happens where a million scenarios enter my head at once. So hello, {its me}. Here I am, making another story.
This one admittedly is probably my shortest so far. and Look, more angst/inner turmoil
I'm sorry.
I hate myself for this.
But I couldn't stay away, it was like calling for me.
I'm gonna say I have a kink for AU's that have to do with horrible situations because here's another. Levi is among the 'night-walkers.' His life is ultimately shit. Song-fic-ish but not really.
✖ W A R N I N G (S) ; This story contains heavy angst, slight non-descriptive sexual encounters, a prostitute-esque Levi, Implied violence, 1st person POV, and a lot of subtle depression.
enJoY
_-_-_-_-_-_-
Goodnight Moon
Do you ever stop to just wish upon a star.
Wonder where your life was going, and how you ended up at such a point. Hope that one day things will turn out alright. That someone will throw you a bone in this dog eat dog world.
I do.
Every-single day.
The word 'life' leaves such a bitter taste on my tongue. 'Life' has done nothing for me, 'life' is a constant pull downwards, 'life' is a disparaging hell sheathed under a guise of false sense of securities for those chosen by society to 'make it'.
But who really makes it.
In the end, we all rot under the same earth.
That doesn't mean I wouldn't have liked to make it.
And I could have.
My cards weren't dealt that way.
Having to fend for yourself at age 7 doesn't leave many doors left open, having to throw any semblance of formal education for dinner doesn't make a kind soul.
Do kind souls even truly exist?
I highly doubt it.
If there was, I wouldn't be here right now. Currently tied up on another random bed. Blood dripping excessively from my mouth, and down my thighs, a sore throat as some sweaty old man continously pounds into me. Only caring for his own pleasure. Heavy breathing filling the atmosphere.
His?
Mine?
I can never tell anymore.
The tears surely flow,
I can feel them dripping.
but I make no sounds.
I stopped making sounds when I turned 14.
I don't know why I cry anymore, this is nothing new to me.
Having to sell yourself starting at age 7 to find a way through 'life' doesn't leave many doors open.
Cut before I was even given the slightest of chances.
To society you're just a broken toy no longer useful, cast aside as simply trash because a silver spoon wasn't born into your mouth.
The mans ragged breathing gets heavier signaling his almost release. He doesn't wear a condom, they almost never do.
One more thrust.
YOU ARE READING
♣ Ƭhe Łevi Ƈhronicles ♧
FanficJust a basic book, with basic stories, that contain a basic Levi and some basic others. I would be sorry, but to be frank, i'm not. This is essentially more of a side thing for when I get too stressed writing my main stories. Which, ironically enou...
