Venting But In Style
- Reads 107
- Votes 4
- Parts 6
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A Lockdown Romance Guilt and Trauma
PRESENT-DAY "This last painting is made by an artist who took a long time to agree to sell her beautiful painting. She chose this out of all her paintings. She claimed that this is the best one she made and ready to let it go. So whoever will be the new owner of this tonight, she wants to tell you to store it well for her." He explained vigorously and removed the cover of the painting. I was astounded when I see the painting. It was her painting, us in the bar. I can never forget the shades, textures of her painting especially this. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "I did not feel the same way before. I did not hate you. I hated and torture myself not to see you that I might just hurt you." He added. I really miss this man and I am trying to relieve myself not to give in again easily. I paid the guilt by giving myself to him but how can I not restrain myself from him. I was busy thinking when he hugged me touching my hair. I can sense him wanting me and his head on my shoulders, hugged me like we are just the person in the hotel. People are gazing us now. "Enough, enough, people are looking at us. It's embarrassing." I protested. We sit and finish the meal and share the food. After eating he leads me to my room, I am drowsy from the wine I drink. He did not take a sip of it and it's better for me. He guided me inside. I can still walk but I am losing my balance, he catches me from a sudden fall.Complete
Running from the gang
In life, we do things we regret, or that we wish we could wipe from our memory forever. At the age of 15, I didn't think I'd regret anything until I was an adult. I considered myself care free. I lived life one day at a time. Well, as much as a 15 year old can. But in life, there are also things that we can't change, that we can't forget. Circumstances change, events occur, and life as we know it is altered forever. For me, it was one night, that set in motion a series of events that I wouldn't be able to forget, even if I tried to. *************************** My life was spectacular, or cool, but I was content, and that's all that mattered. I wasn't overly popular, I wasn't the prettiest girl, and I didn't live in a mansion. I did have a great boyfriend, and amazing friends, and hell, I wasn't doing too bad in school either. But that all changed one night, as I was walking home at night. I witnessed a man murder someone he claimed was a snitch, something to do with a gang deal gone wrong. When I found my parents dead the next day in a serial killers wet dream, my naive self decided the best thing I could do, was run, giving up everything I loved. After 2 years, 3 dead members of the gang and a new school, I was found. When secrets are unraveled and with the FBI somehow involved, nothing is as it ever seemed.Complete
Home.
"Don't make homes out of people. This will leave you homesick and sad, missing arms that cannot hold roofs, hearts with shaky foundations." I made a home out of him. He was where I curled up and cried. He was where I felt most comfortable. He was where no makeup was worn. He was my foundation. He built me up, but I never felt like I was truly his home. I knew I was his true home, but I felt like nothing but his guest house, where he'd stay when he was drunk or just had a lot on his mind. Where he'd crash when he was on a downfall. Where he felt most comfortable, sometimes... Only sometimes. But, I still loved him... I had no place to judge him, seeing as though I wasn't even a halfway house when we met... I just wish my home was more welcoming sometimes. I wish my home had warm colors on his walls so I could feel more at ease sometimes. I wish my home had no doors so he wouldn't be able to shut me out so often. I wish my home was made out of something other than bricks and steel so he couldn't be so cold sometimes.. One night, he told me, "As long as I'm your home... You'll never need any other shelter." So, I stayed. And, I got adjusted to those black and white walls and those hard doors and that foundation made of bricks and steel. I made a home out of him, and I'm living comfortably sheltered from the world. And, I'm afraid I'll never be able to move out.Complete
Picking Daisies (Book #1, Emily's story)
Why I wasn't important. Why I wasn't worth it. Why I was invisible. Why I gave up. Why I hate myself. Why I am alone. Why I got rope. Why I got a chair.Complete
PRESENT-DAY "This last painting is made by an artist who took a long time to agree to sell her beautiful painting. She chose this out of all her paintings. She claimed that this is the best one she made and ready to let it go. So whoever will be the new owner of this tonight, she wants to tell you to store it well for her." He explained vigorously and removed the cover of the painting. I was astounded when I see the painting. It was her painting, us in the bar. I can never forget the shades, textures of her painting especially this. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "I did not feel the same way before. I did not hate you. I hated and torture myself not to see you that I might just hurt you." He added. I really miss this man and I am trying to relieve myself not to give in again easily. I paid the guilt by giving myself to him but how can I not restrain myself from him. I was busy thinking when he hugged me touching my hair. I can sense him wanting me and his head on my shoulders, hugged me like we are just the person in the hotel. People are gazing us now. "Enough, enough, people are looking at us. It's embarrassing." I protested. We sit and finish the meal and share the food. After eating he leads me to my room, I am drowsy from the wine I drink. He did not take a sip of it and it's better for me. He guided me inside. I can still walk but I am losing my balance, he catches me from a sudden fall.
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