Story cover for The Power Within by Fae_King_Rhys
The Power Within
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    LECTURAS 8
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    Partes 2
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  • WpView
    LECTURAS 8
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    Votos 0
  • WpPart
    Partes 2
  • WpHistory
    Hora <5 mins
Continúa, Has publicado dic 25, 2020
Contenido adulto
This power awoke inside of me... Who am i? what am i? This power... What burdens do i have to carry now that i have it, it feels dark, and unwelcoming yet it also feels like home at the same time how can that be? It doesn't make any sense, yet at the same time it does, where did i come from?... 

Hello I'm Xurthus, I dont really know what to do with my life, im kind of just going with the flow, there's not much to do, I dont have many freinds and thats because I only pay attention to the ones that actually stick around. I mean who can blame me, I dont like people much but those who are close to me are all I want to protect, those who stay in my life and dont leave are why I hang on, works sucks, music and reading is an escape from The world around me, I return to an empty apartment where I sit and think alone and deal with the voices that taunt my mental well-being, I just wish they would shut up, sometimes they're too much.
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I was kicked around like trash on the streets. I was the book that nobody could understand or read, but without a care, they were quick to rip out the pages. I screamed for attention, but time after time, I was ignored. Nobody noticed me, so I made myself at home in my own shadow. They say there's light at the end of the tunnel -- I searched and searched for it, but it could never be found. Therefore, I lost hope as I hid in the shade and endured what seemed like everlasting pain. The little hope I did have was snatched from my arms. My baby brother was my life, and they took my glimpse of hope away. Home. Is that a word? Maybe for a family of some kind, but for me, I never had a place to call home. I moved from place to place. Unstable foster care, fighting for my life in group homes, barely surviving in detention centers, and running away from being mistreated as I made many benches my temporary home. The only thing that I was familiar with was a black plastic bag containing my dirty rags. I am too young to know what it feels like to survive. These are the cards life has dealt me and I am not meant to win; however, I easily lose without trying. It is hard for me to find peace. I am paying for my mother's reckless actions. I am trapped in a world where the sun has died because I am unable to feel love. I am unable to dream. Sorrow is my aura, and the sadness hugs me. My eyes are closed shut by the barbed wire fence from my eyelashes as they prohibit tears from falling. I am damaged. When will the morning come? Did the sun put up a fight last night, like I do every single day? If I can survive the day, I know the sun isn't dead. One day, I will awake to a glorious sunrise. Until then, I hope my brother keeps blowing his pinwheel, and I will keep making wishes with every dandelion I come across. For now, all I know is that everything was taken from me, and the only thing I own is my name.
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