Blocked by Curtains
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- Mga Parte 3
My family, murdered. Gone. I look and I'm invisible, no one can see me. Why aren't I in heaven. Or hell? Somewhere better than this son of a gun life. I was liked. I was happy. Where am I now?
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Magugustuhan mo rin ang
Saved By a Stranger
No one stopped to look. No one glanced in the alley I cried in. I was tired of this place, so tired of the endless days that stretched out before me. The emptiness in my heart was eating me alive, with no end in sight. My own darkness was swallowing me whole and leaving nothing alive. The tears froze on my bright red cheeks. I was tired of feeling so broken, but most of all I was tired of being so alone. I pulled out the cold heavy weapon from my coat and stared at it. "If someone would look this way," I thought, "If someone would just glance at me and see my pain. I won't do it." There was a man standing in front of me. After he removed the single bullet from my pistol, he handed it back to me, and left. I followed the man at a distance back to his apartment. He knew that I had followed him and waited at the door to let me in. For reasons I cannot explain I entered his tiny apartment. I fell asleep at the table playing with the bullet and woke up to my alarm the following morning. There was a pillow beneath my head, a blanket over my shoulders, and a note that read: "Dear Stranger..."Kumpleto
ALIVE but DEAD || COMPLETED
I'm too good to live in this world. I'm ALIVE but DEAD inside. [Not edited] ©Kookie's🍪_honey🍯Kumpleto
Rainbow Six Siege: A Ghost in the Shadows (Complete)
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Loneliness. Depression. Broken. Scared. Devastated. Hopeless. Mournful. Disheartening. Bleak. Joyless. Somber. I have no one. Depression and Loneliness are the only things I feel. My family tries to make me happy, but I just put on a fake smile and cry about it in my room. They act like everything is alright, but everything is not. They KNOW I was devastated about Mom's murder. They KNOW I was heartbroken about Dad's sickness that eventually killed him. That's all I've thought about. Devastation and heartbroken. Just because of those two things. Never in my life I have been this devastating. Dayton, Hayden, Angel, or Monica know how to make me truly happy. Not even my own siblings know how to make me show a real smile. Suicide is all I can think about day to day and I've almost died because of that. DEPRESSION IS A REAL THING. NO ONE KNOWS HOW I FEEL EVERYDAY. NO ONE CAN JUDGE OTHERS ABOUT DEPRESSION OR EVEN MAKE JOKES ABOUT IT BECAUSE ITS A REAL THING. DEPRESSION HAS KILLED PEOPLE. EVERYONE IN MY LIFE JUDGES ME JUST BECAUSE I DON'T SMILE, LAUGH, HUG, OR DO ANYTHING NORMAL PEOPLE DO. I CUT MYSELF, I CRY, I YELL, I VENT, I PUSH PEOPLE OUT OF MY LIFE. Those are the things people are worried about me. "Go kill yourself and join your parents in hell." They say and I just shrug it off and find a private place to hide and cry it out. "I CAN'T DEAL WITH LIFE ANYMORE!!!!" I say and I use my sharp nails and cut myself then cry some more. A gun is buried within my arm for defense from my dad, but I use it in case I am tired of society. Then that's when I met the Host Club. They saw my sadness and made me a part of it to repay my debt for accidentally breaking a vase. I am now a Host for men to flatter them, but how can normal guys want me to be a Host when I wear lip earrings, eyeliner, chains, and have a gun in my arm? I'm the definition of Hell. Then he made me smile again, something that I thought I would never get back. Happiness.Kumpleto
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No one stopped to look. No one glanced in the alley I cried in. I was tired of this place, so tired of the endless days that stretched out before me. The emptiness in my heart was eating me alive, with no end in sight. My own darkness was swallowing me whole and leaving nothing alive. The tears froze on my bright red cheeks. I was tired of feeling so broken, but most of all I was tired of being so alone. I pulled out the cold heavy weapon from my coat and stared at it. "If someone would look this way," I thought, "If someone would just glance at me and see my pain. I won't do it." There was a man standing in front of me. After he removed the single bullet from my pistol, he handed it back to me, and left. I followed the man at a distance back to his apartment. He knew that I had followed him and waited at the door to let me in. For reasons I cannot explain I entered his tiny apartment. I fell asleep at the table playing with the bullet and woke up to my alarm the following morning. There was a pillow beneath my head, a blanket over my shoulders, and a note that read: "Dear Stranger..."
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