Broken
- Reads 15
- Votes 2
- Parts 6
Blurb:
I go back to the room and see myself eyes shut, skin pale and not breathing. I go over to myself and put my hand on his forehead. "How did this happen? Why did this happen? What did I do wrong?"
Warning! Contains Depression and Some Graphic Voilent Details.
All Rights Reserved
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i drew a butterfly on my wrist, in hopes that this feeling would no longer persist, but things got bad and i started to cry, so the butterfly on my wrist had to die. once again i tried to set myself free, but it seems my thoughts have stolen the key, so this butterfly lived a short life, killed with fear, and a very sharp knife. -b.g [lower case intended.]Complete
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Betrayal...hopelessness...is there a way out of this mental asylum? The torture...will it end? Help... (This was actually a shot of making a creepypasta of my own...how'd I do?)
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