We rolled into this almost Alien town not knowing what is head of us. We must have looked crazy, looking up and down all the streets, lost. It was daytime now and we were just trying to pass through. This town was not far enough away from him, my father. I knew he would seach for me and try and force me and Laura to go back. I was never going back to that evil town with that haunted house, cursed with death and drownding in blood and tears. That house was the definition of a torture chamber and I was the fugative that had escaped. I felt as if I had committed a jail break, but this jail was far worse.
I saw many friendly and inviting f
Sometimes I sit and think about all the things wrong with me.
My writing might be bad, or I might get a bad grade.
But the real terrible thing is when your parents say there’s something wrong with you- when they aren’t joking- it sticks with you.
Dear god, it sticks with you.
When they’re supposed to think you’re perfect.
When they say your clothes are bad, you’re teeth are bad, you’re hair is bad, you look bad that day.
When they say you’re fat or chubby, or criticize your personality.
When you make something for them, but they don’t even give you a second glance, just toss it aw
"Man is born broken. He lives by mending." -Anne Lamott
"Oh, it's you again." Ava heard Gabriel say from downstairs. Laurel said it was fine for her to go down, so she did.
"So there's the prodigy," A man said. He was plump with very black, almost purple hair. "She's not much."
"Excuse me?" Ava said, unsure if he was talking to her. If he was, he had sass, with a shirt to match.
"Not one of my best, but I'll accept it." Gabriel leaned over and whispered something to him. "Oooohh." He said drawling it out dramatically.
"Um, who are you?" She asked.
"Dionysus, god of wine, madness, drama, and parties." He sounded very proud that he was th
I love to sing, write, photography, and draw. I was afraid no one would like my stories. Me, and my passion to write. But I've realized people judge, and I don't care! This is me! I have secrets, and my own story. I'll revel some secrets and some of my life through my stories.
I can hear every breath I take. I can feel my blood pulsing through my veins. I look into his deep, innocent, piercing blue eyes and know I'm safe. Were far away from them now, so I know we'll both be alright. Were somewhere on a bridge, but I don't know where yet. We get into the car and drive to a motel. He carries me in, sets me on the bed, and I slowly drift into a deep dark sleep. I hear my breath. I feel my blood flowing.
Breath.
I can hear myself breathing. "Faster! Faster!" I tell myself in my head. I'm running, but i don't know what from. Someone passes me and I realize I'm near my street. I turn into my driveway and see my dad working on something, but I'm not sure what. I go inside to get a drink of water, and I hear my sister and brother arguing, then my mom stomping towards them. Then I realize what I was running from. The same thing that I've been running from for the past two years. The fighting, the arguing. I was done with it all.
The silent girl sits in the back of the room. She says nothing. She stares blankly at the wall, ignoring the world, until the last bell rings. No one knows the trauma she's been through, The story beyond her eyes. She hides her scars under her sleeve as if it's her prized possession. She smiles at everyone as if everything is alright. She is the silent girl.