I prefer not waking up in the gleaming morning sun, I would rather stay secluded in my sleep peaceful and comforted by cotton sheets that warp warmth around me, the darkness of the room bring solace and easement. Rather than the beaming rays and piercing cold weather.
As soon as I release myself from this cosiness, my feet will be the first to feel the wrath of the unwelcoming stone-cold floor, then my arms will arise in goose bumps as my skin erects itself from the cold or from fear? either one is the answer. Coming to the conclusion that my morning shall be spent awake I make my once imprinted bed into a fortress of welcoming solitude and comfort, I long to be in it again.
My windows are sheathed in frost as a welcome gift from the hiemal winter that is occurring, just the thought of wrapping up in scarfs to protect me from the fangs of bitter frostbite makes my skin tingle, or is that just because of the heat withdrawing from me? maybe. Peeking out the overlooking street and seeing bystanders shiver while rushing to work makes me feel envious, if only I could be as free.
The kitchen smells like disinfectant and alcohol, alcohol being something I have always had a pure hatred for. In such a small amount of time it can cause chaos, maltreatment, and the downfall of someone who becomes the antagonist. The disinfectant is because the overuse in cleaning, the mind makes you anxious especially when fingerprints, droplets of blood, or just strand of hair can cause your spotless plan to crumble into nothing.
I search the cupboards and the refrigerator or any scraps or many a elegant fancy meal would appear if I daydreamed enough, passing out from starvation would not be that bad again; maybe then I'd be force-fed out of sympathy. Killing me slowly is too much fun rather than getting to the point.
It has been a year since this relationship of sort had came barging into my life, however, no one has found me, no one has searched for me, I have been forgotten. The only person who remembers me is Him. Some might say I am delusional for trying not to escape but if you experienced half the things he has done you would simply learn to observe and comply, although this façade of love is irritable and draining pretending to love someone for the sake of living is exhausting and I am no longer sure my body is capable to last the sickening things he has done and will do.
His sweet demeanour is a mask to cover the perverted and devilish
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dreamland
Fanfictionif only she could stay in that dream, just for one more minute. she didn't have to worry about tomorrow, today, or any other day; only herself and her daydream. of course reality does not allow such prosperity, especially for our main subject: Y/n...
