Betrayed By Yourself

Betrayed By Yourself

  • WpView
    Odsłon 7
  • WpVote
    Głosy 0
  • WpPart
    Części 1
WpMetadataReadDla dorosłychW trakcie<5 min
WpMetadataNoticeOstatnia publikacja wt., cze 9, 2015
Ha...! I just love the way people talk to me these days. Their ever so pitiful voices moved by my own pain. I left the life that I had... End of story. But nobody ever stops. They keep trying to bring me back. I would just laugh, not even flinched by their words. "Ha, Carlos is gone." I would say. Although... He used to be a good kid. He would study. Kiss his grandma goodnight, and his mom. Even though his dad was a drunk he still had friends, and a family that cared for him. He had a good thing going. "That was the old days." I would say. Then I'd walk away, making sure that I didn't look back. Now... Let me tell you about the story of how Carlos died, and how he lived.
Wszelkie Prawa Zastrzeżone
Dołącz do największej społeczności pisarskiejOtrzymuj spersonalizowane rekomendacje dzieł, zapisuj ulubione dzieła w bibliotece oraz komentuj i głosuj, aby rozwijać swoją społeczność.
Illustration

To może też polubisz

  • Pyro
  • Hide And Keep
  • He is a Walking Red Flag~ (UNDER REVISION)
  • The Nost
  • Goodbye Henry
  • HIS VIRGINITY
  • Fated To Be
  • Prey
  • Second Chance
  • ...
Pyro

Let me tell you my story, the one about how I died. Don't worry, though. I came back. They say when someone shares their story, they're sharing their burden. Seeking someone to help carry the weight that bends their shoulders, hoping their troubles will float away like helium balloons into the endless sky. Your silence becomes their sanctuary, a vacuum they fill with dust-covered memories. If you speak, do it gently - a nod, a smile, the ghost of a touch on their shoulder. But my story? It's different. It carved its path because trust becomes a luxury I could no longer afford. How could it not, when the one person who swore to never betray me did exactly that? The one who promised never to hurt me, broke me. The one who vowed to stay, walked away. So tell me, why trust anyone else when the person I trusted the most killed me in every way but physical? Until they managed that too. They say the most dangerous predators are the ones who look like prey. I learned this truth through split knuckles and shattered promises, through blood on my tongue and threats whispered against skin. Through playing weak while gathering my strength in darkness. Now I watch him, this self-proclaimed hunter in his own game. He doesn't see he's just another piece being moved across someone else's board. The mafia's golden prince, they whisper. If only they knew what lurks beneath that polished veneer. What dances behind those eyes that mirror the shadows I know so well. But shadows? They're born from fire. And somewhere out there, someone's striking matches, leaving black roses on cooling ashes, drawing closer with every corpse that falls. They call him Pyro. And when that name drops in a room. Well, let's just say I'm not the only one with secrets worth killing for. Some demons wear designer suits. Some victims wear crowns. And some fires are worth burning for. Welcome to the game. Trust no one. Not even me.

Więcej szczegółów
WpActionLinkWytyczne Treści