The Revolutionaries
- Reads 53
- Votes 14
- Parts 1
Ongoing<5 mins
Last published Sat, Jan 12, 2013
It was like someone had taken a black marker and had written the word ‘obsessed’ across my forehead for all the world to see. That one word had torn down all of my defensive walls and made me feel naked and childlike. Obsessed. I hated that word.
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I glared at him; every cell in my body was on fire with hate. Everything that he represented - a manipulated, cold, emotionless world - I wanted to end. Yet I couldn't because he was the only one that could get me what I had wanted for the past two years of my life. He was the only one that was cold enough to get the job done. What did that say about me?
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