Bloody Walls
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- Parts 6
MatureOngoing11m
Last published Fri, Sep 2, 2016
This started out as a poem, in my other book, called Hidden Message, but it got to over 1000 words, before it was done. So I figured that I should probably put it in its own book.
Long story short, it happened by accident, but I think it turned out good. Check it out if you want, but be careful. It contains some mature subject matter.
Next is the official description.
"I had never been given a name until you showed up. I was never called anything, but a nussence.
I was never showed kindness until you showed up, until that day I had been beaten regularly.
I had never seen a wall without blood on it until you showed me one. But even then my brain interferes and projects my memories of blood on them.
This is my story, about abuse, kindness, and blood. This is a story about someone considered a monster."
All work here is mine, and came from my own creativity. Any coincidences are entirely that, a coincidence. All material cannot be used without the authors permission.
All Rights Reserved
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β°ββ€ β [I stood there in unequivocal revelation, the lagging pain slowly catching up with me, but before I could release a fraction of the pain into my screaming, a bell rang, and suddenly, pilfered from my body was the ability to move. My face neutral and my muscles disabled as I fell face-first into the hard, scathing rock that lay unmoved before me.] γ* γ β’ Λ Λ Λ * γΒ° γ β’ Λγ Imagine awakening in an environment you deemed unfamiliar, your back thrumming in pain, with your mind staying clear of how you ended up there or simply the moments that lead to your position. You try to find a way out and later realize that you can't even remember who you are; your memories purged, your identity unknown. It takes you a good amount of time, pain, and effort, and eventually you manage to gather tiny fragments of who you were along with the trauma of how you retrieved it, but it's okay, maybe it's all worth it as you finally make contact with another person. Turns out she was your best friend. Finally, it looks like all is turning up until you learn of all the inhumane things you've done in your past, things that evade your newfound morals, things that were so detrimental to society that when you hear the reason as to why you've been enduring such agony, you understand why. How many people did you even end up hurting? What did you do that was so bad, that it made millions wish the absolute worst of you? What will you do now?
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