His Rose From Hell

His Rose From Hell

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing12m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Oct 2, 2013
I'm not dead, nor am I alive. I'm a walking shell. I'm empty and hallow on the inside. I've been on earth for over three hundred years with the humans. And yet I'm not human. I don't know what I am, all I know is I have nothing to live for, a part of me is missing. I don't know who I am, but today I woke up with the feeling that he was coming, he is coming back to claim me. But I don't know who he is...
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The average human being spends every second of his day fighting against the force of nature to see another day. But I'm different. I'm not afraid of outside forces to take my life away - only myself. Approximately 10 years ago, something happened to me. Something really bad. But I'm not allowed to talk about it. As a way to release my frustration, I give hell to my body and everyone I come in contact with - especially my parents. No one knows about what happened except the ones who did it...and Him. But he didn't stay. Now, he's back and he's not talking either. I want to stop hurting, I need to stop. Make me stop.

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