Horrifically Lovely Short Stories and Poems

Dolorem

I felt no sorrow on this day. The faces around me are crumbled in sobs, the tortured faces of those in hell.

I felt no sorrow for his death. He was no father to me. I felt no joy around him nor any love for him. He told me this is how a father shows love to his daughter. But that was not love, that was the destruction of myself as he touched me gently like I was a delicate flower.

I felt no anger towards those around me, even though they openly glared at me. Mumbles of how could she not be crying and she is a terrible daughter tickled my ears. Yet my face never shifted from its blank slate. I was the Goddess Diana, guarding maidens from the cruelty of men.

I felt the numbness of the arctic in my very bones. My dress hung limbly against my boney ashy frame. It was snug on me only three months before, yet now, I could fit another person inside.

I felt no sorrow on this day, only relief. Like a rush of fresh spring air. I was finally free.

I felt the rain on my face, washing away my sadness of the past, creating a new slate.