paraíso

I should've done better.

Lies, curses, and insults are all over her head now. It was always the feeling of guilt, the tugging on her stomach, the ache on her head, and the pain on her heart.

I should've done better.

She repeated.

Quickly, grabbing her belongings, she left the hall. Everyone was staring at her, eyes are wide and confused, not understanding the situation.

She called for a cab, quickly hopped on and just as quickly, tears began streaming from her eyes, like a river flowing down from a mountain.

You are really pathetic. Can't you like-­­­ not­ cry after you argue with someone?

She laughed bitterly at the thought. Everything was too much tonight, even for her stone-cold heart.

"Are you alright, miss?" The cab driver tried to start, but Daze has no more energy and emotion to deal with useless words right now. It'll mess her head and make her panic for no fucking reason.

She sniffed in reply.

At traffic, the driver looked at her through the rear mirror, witnessing how she leans her forehead in the window, gazing on the streets with tears still flowing from her eyes. The driver was mesmerized, curious of the girl, pities her even. Then decided to talk no more, which Daze is very thankful for.

The cab dropped her on her apartment, exactly on the location she called for.

She was exhaling loudly, cold creeping quickly in her insides, fumbling on her keys with extreme difficulty due to being too emotional and cold at the same time.

You always try to impress, now you're cold as fuck.

She removed her paper-like coat, which didn't give her even an ounce of warmth the entire night, and hanged it on the rusty hook behind the door. She eventually locked the door, removed her shoes, her clothes, throwing it on the ground, creating a pile as she always does on her mental breakdowns, which is every single day.

Her eyes didn't even feel heavy, with all the crying and screaming. Yes, her throat does feel shit but thoughts are running around her head, not letting her sleep and just forget everything.

You can't forget anything.

She can't forget anything. Events from years ago are still somewhere in the corners of her head.

The time when she was a young little girl, around the age of 5, when her brother tried to used her for his pleasure. Being the naïve girl who always want to make useful of herself complied and did what she was told to, step by step, not knowing a single fuck about it. Or the time she caught her mother talking to her uncle on the phone, negotiating her price if she would ever be sold to impress the rich folks of their town.

Many things. She's been through many things that she can't forget.

Everytime some shit happens to you, you always recall more shit. Can't you be more pathetic at once?

It is like, herself is her own enemy, and her head is her own demise. She covered her eyes with her forearm, the tears stopped, but it's trying to escape again, she bit her lip to hold them.

She needs to talk. Not to someone, not to herself. Just talk.

And escape. From everything.

She stood up and headed for her bag on the floor, crumpled and cheap, taking her phone and headphones from it. She wore the headphones, played the music and flew to her bed, diving in literally.