Looking For A Way Out

Looking For A Way Out

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WpMetadataReadComplete Mon, Mar 6, 2017<5 mins
Authors Note: so this was basically an English Language assignment my friend had gotten that she'd asked me for help in, I got around to writing this at 12:30 Am and finished around 01:00 Am since she had to submit it the very next morning. I kind of rushed to finish this so I apologise if it's not that good, I just really wanted to post something again since I haven't posted in so long. Anyway to cut to the chase she basically had to write something following the pretext of 'hope' and this is what I came up with. I hope you guys enjoy How do you go from absolutely adoring someone, to not really understanding why you're even with them in the first place? What makes you want to stay in a situation that could be toxic for you in more than one way, what drives you to in every sense of it love something that might be killing you. Wanting something that doesn't have to be yours, wanting someone that can't be yours. Clinging to the little feeling of desire and wonder that we'd like to call hope. Because hope is what drives us to do what we never thought we'd be able to do prior, hope makes us brave, hope makes us strong. Without hope there is no light to fight back the darkness. After all in the end we are all the pieces of what we remember. We hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there is love and memory, there is no true loss.
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WORK IN PROGRESS‼️ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── There was no noise; I was at peace, and ironically, the stone-cold pavement never seemed warmer as my blood oozed out of me and around me like a painted canvas. I was slowly losing consciousness, but my mind never seemed happier now that I was dying. The white walls with big bright lights did not resemble heaven; in fact, it was quite the opposite. I thought I had died. When I came to, I found myself in this strange place, disoriented and confused. I looked around and found another five pairs of eyes looking at me with the same emotion swirling in their gaze. Now, 15 years later, I train with these girls. Our makers take care of us, feed us, and make sure we are clean, healthy, and fit. Some of us never had that; that's probably why it took so long for us to realize we were being used. The dirty work they made us do, none of us questioned it. How could we when we were taken off the streets? For a chance at normalcy, we settled for anything, even if that meant blurring the lines of right and wrong. After a mission gone haywire, we started noticing, and now we strike back to take our voices and reclaim the power that was used on us as a way to control us. After all, they are the ones who trained us; we are just returning our long-overdue favour. ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Rankings : Featured in Mystery-thriller #5 in Mystery-thriller on 7/12/24

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