A Table For Two
- LECTURAS 162
- Votos 8
- Partes 5
Continúa50m
Última publicación dom, nov 8, 2015
im tired. im lonely. im quiet. im broken. im angry.
let's be real: im not okay.
and sometimes, on cold nights when the house im staying at is empty and the people i know are distant, it occurs to me that ... there is no such thing as okay.
--
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#128
debt
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Someone New ✓
"There comes a point where you no longer care if there's a light at the end of the tunnel or not. You're just sick of the tunnel." - Who I am doesn't matter. How I got here doesn't matter. What matters now is I'm getting help, right? That's what they tell me here. They tell me that the road to recovery feels like a terrible butt fuck, but the fact that you're on the path to begin with, is all that matters. So as I sit in this circle of fuck ups, I realize just how different I am from them. I didn't attempt suicide because my mother was a crack addict who didn't want me. My father wasn't abusive. I didn't have a sibling die in a car accident. I was never really bullied either. I attempted suicide because, for the first time in years, I thought I had found something that could make me feel again... and after not feeling much at all for far too long, perhaps I went a bit overboardConcluida
Save Me
I was drowning. I knew that. I also knew that the hands around my throat, pushing me deeper into the river water was the cause. What I didn't know was who was drowning me and why. It hurt thinking. It hurt to do anything right now. But I still screamed under the cold water and pushed the hands away as hard as I could. It didn't have much effect. I fought and fought, but I was getting weaker, and colder. The pain was overbearing. I couldn't breathe. It was the worst pain imaginable; and as the hands that were around my neck were forcibly ripped off by some unknown force, I slipped deeper into the depths of the river. My hair was straight above me along with my arms. My eyes were open and the water burned. A darkness started to pull me under, taking the pain away. I felt a small pressure around my waist, before the darkness completely consumed me. The last thing I remember is thinking, save me.Concluida
This Place (boyxboy)
I'm just lying here in stillness and darkness wondering why. Why did this have to happen to my mom? We have nothing we can't even afford a house. Here I am a 14 year old boy that lives in a shelter home. Mom says one day we'll get out. But I've lost all hope. And I know my mom has no hope either. If she did I wouldn't have to hear her cry herself to sleep at night. I hate seeing her in so much pain. I wish, I could get a job. Maybe since I'm younger and a boy they'll hire me. Who am I kidding? My mom's in her 30's she's not old either. Sometimes the idiots that run this place kick my mom out for the night because she's making too much noise after hours. My mom was crying; is that too hard to understand? I hate this place. Well, tomorrow's our first day apart since summer started. They're forcing me to go to high school. I'm okay with school but I don't want to leave my mom alone in this world. Well, I guess there's a better chance of me getting a job if I'm in high school. You know there's one thing I remember my mom telling me when I was young. "Never frown; you never know who's falling in love with your smile." Words to live by. Let's hope they help me tomorrow.Concluida
In Some Niya
"Go to sleep already. Good night, I love you," my mom said while closing the door of my room. Damn. It's one of those nights again, huh. Tch. I twisted an turned on my bed. Can't seem to find a good spot again. *sigh* I gave up and just stared at the ceiling. I got my cellphone from under my pillow and scrolled through instagram and hoped that it would make me somewhat sleepier. Blah blah blah this. Blah blah blah that. Damn, can't get sleep whatsoever. I don't want to do this but this leaves me no choice. "(Hey B, are you there?)" I spoke inside my mind. "(About damn time you gave up~ haha~ can't sleep, princess?)" the voice replied back. Damn, I'm trap again.Concluida
emo/mute girl
i am the girl that has no friends, that gets picked on, that hasnt talked. i am considered an emo freak or a loser. i dont really care. i am fine without friends. my mother is gone and my dad is abusive and doesnt give a shit if i was found dead. but that is normal in my life. i wont talk to anyone and hopefully they will stop talking to me.Concluida
Back Into The Void
Being void of emotions doesn't mean having no emotions. It's pretending you're okay until you almost believe it. Until you don't remember how it felt before. Until numb becomes a personality. Until someone says "Are you okay?" and you almost start crying because no one's asked in months. And when someone finally reaches in - when someone finally cares - you want to run. Because hope is more terrifying than pain. Because being saved means admitting you need saving. Because the void tells you: they'll leave too. The worst part of the void isn't being alone. It's remembering what it felt like not to be. I wish I had never met him. Kilian was the one who took me out the void. Now that he's gone. What do I do? The void is calling it's dragging me back into it's dark cold infinite walls...what do I do Kilian?
Obey.
!!!Warning: Is very triggering. Lots of detailed descriptions of abuse*** "The only way out is through." When your life turns into a nightmare and something really horrible happens to you, you believe while it's happening, someone is going to burst in any minute and save you, you picture a loved one or even a heroic stranger; anyone to help you. Just like in every movie, book or tv show. Any minute now, they would come... Unfortunately, in real life, that just doesn't happen. No one bursts in to save you. No one speaks up to stop the horror happening to you. The nightmare continues on uninterrupted and you're forced to live through it, every second, until it's done. And still no one bares witness. Only you, and the one hurting you. NOTE: this is for anyone who has been through trauma and felt trapped, almost enslaved to your abuser....knowing help would not come. And saving yourself was the only option.Concluida
Caught In His World
Madelyn Norlyse. Brown hair with matching brown eyes and a soul that's absolutely lifeless. Dull. Empty. She has been abused and used so many times that she lost count. She doesn't let anyone in easily and trusts almost nobody. She was left for dead, her soul unresponsive and almost annihilated by pain and anguish. Her only joy is her one best friend... that all changes when Dylan Romano comes along. He teaches her to live and she gives him life. -----Extract----- I start to hyperventilate waiting for him to speak. I wasn't allowed to speak without them wanting me too. "Do you know how worried your mother has been?" he asked calmly. I didn't like it when he was calm. He would become angry afterwards. "I asked you a question girl" he stated now looking at me. His eyes were bloodshot. I could tell he was drunk. He forever is. "I didn't mean to upset you or her" i responded as apologetically as i could. My voice was shakey. "where did you go?" he stood up. "Where did you go that was so important you had to break the rules of this home" he was walking closer to me. -----End Of Extract----- My book is written in parts.This is my first time writing my very own story, so if there are any mistakes I'm deeply sorry. Overall, I hope you enjoy! ⚠️Trigger Warning: assault, abuse, violence, graphic details and suicide attempts ⚠️Concluida
Consumed by the Darkness
Trigger Warning: School shootings, attempted suicide, mental health How do you live with pain? How do you go through so much... and still manage to smile? It's hard. But it's even harder when you're alone - facing battles no one sees, fighting silent struggles with no one to lean on. Some people fight until they make it. Others fight until they break. Some respond with anger. Others don't respond at all. The question is: how will you respond?Concluida
Something Without Reason.
The world ended with neither fire nor flood, only silence. The void swallowed all but a scattered few. And in the black aftermath, we decided: Call ourselves Saviors, and they will listen. Call ourselves Saviors, and they will not despair. Five years have passed, and faith has kept us breathing. Lies have kept us fed. And yet, three years ago, something crawled from the dark... a thing that wore a woman's face and called itself Hollow. It whispered a promise: Tomorrow will arrive. We knew from the start Hollow was not on our side. But is it madness to destroy the only thing that understands the void? Or is it madness to live beneath her shadow, clinging to the hope that someone, something, will save us? But what is a Savior to a world that has already been forsaken? What is meaning in something without reason?
"There comes a point where you no longer care if there's a light at the end of the tunnel or not. You're just sick of the tunnel." - Who I am doesn't matter. How I got here doesn't matter. What matters now is I'm getting help, right? That's what they tell me here. They tell me that the road to recovery feels like a terrible butt fuck, but the fact that you're on the path to begin with, is all that matters. So as I sit in this circle of fuck ups, I realize just how different I am from them. I didn't attempt suicide because my mother was a crack addict who didn't want me. My father wasn't abusive. I didn't have a sibling die in a car accident. I was never really bullied either. I attempted suicide because, for the first time in years, I thought I had found something that could make me feel again... and after not feeling much at all for far too long, perhaps I went a bit overboard
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