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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞;; 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐲 {contains dark , sensitive thoughts; mention of abuse, selfharm}
She wasn't ok though. She never was. He broke her. She was trembling at any loud voice, fearing harm and insult. Every fast motion was remembering her of him, left her shaking, whimpering, weak. But much worse was the void that engulfed her mind every time she was alone. Voices in her head whispering at her, sending her into the war within herself.
You are worthless You don't deserve your friends They hate you Just end it already
No I don't want this ;; fuck
You are even too weak for this shit huh
Make it stop Fuck God just make it stop please
The silence she once loved was now one of her biggest enemies. Controlling her, destroying her. Hands gripped her hair as she crouched on the bathrooms floor, wanting nothing more but to stop the pain. The stinging scent of alcohol and vomit pierced through her nerves as she desperately tried to ignore her fathers miserable presence in the room next to her.
Her puffy face was drowned in tears and painful sobs escaped her lips. Her slender fingers were holding the sharp, thin object, mirroring the dim light of the small room. She could end it all. Within mere seconds, though she decided to not do it. She was scared. She didn't want to be gone. She wanted to live, to feel, though every part of her craved to not feel anything anymore. She once was a pure canvas, ready to be painted with beautiful art - though she got scattered into pieces. A black coat of color wrapped around her aching soul. Now wrecked and destroyed.
Who was she going to fool? She was lost. She wouldn't be able to escape.
It hurt. In her eyes, in her fingertips, in her head, in her nerves, in her heart, in her stomach, in her lungs, in her soul. The hole in her chest only grew, letting her vulnerable and pained. She crouched on the cold floor, quivering and shaking. No one was there to hold her, to soothe the pain, to care for her.
On days like these it wholly drenched her soul, her aching soul that she was all alone. Without anyone. All lone. Abandoned. Isolated.
Some days she could channel the pain through art, some days she tried to fill the hole in her chest with other pain, physical pain, distracting her; she screamed and cried - creating awfully beautiful art on her body in order to ease her stumbling mind. In order to work properly. In order to smile and to live. To pretend. Sometimes it got better, sometimes it got even worse. A cave she couldn't escape by her own.
