Forever Bonded
  • LECTURAS 342
  • Votos 68
  • Partes 8
  • Hora 1h 25m
  • LECTURAS 342
  • Votos 68
  • Partes 8
  • Hora 1h 25m
Continúa, Has publicado jun 28, 2016
He didn't know what these feelings were called...
All he knew is that they were there...
She wasn't looking for a lover...
She only needed a best friend...
Nothing could ever tear them apart...
They became best friends...
Inseparable...
Its as if they are one, but two different people. 
They were total opposites of each other, yet, in a way, exactly the same.
She was the sun.
He was the the moon.
She was green light,
He was red light.
It was as if their whole lives, they were bounded together by the red string of fate.
One couldn't possibly go on without the other. 
One hated not to be in the presence of the other.
Every second away from each other is as painful as death.
They never told each other that they loved each other, because words were needed to be said. 
They already knew.
They're bond could transcend lifetimes.
They are forever bonded.

A story about two best friends, and one heart.
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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.