“It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. My mother told me when I was eight what love was like. True love in her words. I wonder what happened.” She says.
“Stop it Emma” Her father says.
“Apparently it wasn’t true love!” She screams angrily. “In order for it to be true love both parties have to be in lov-” she’s cut off by him slapping her across the face.
“It wasn’t my fault she killed herself because of it I didn’t know” her father screams enraged at his daughter’s outburst.
“AND IT WASN’T HER FAULT THAT SHE APPARENTLY WASN’T GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU. IT WASN’T HER FAULT THAT YOU LIED TO HER ABOUT YOUR LOVE FOR HER BECAUSE YOU COULDN’T LOOK PAST THE DAMN SCAR ON HER FACE.” She screams the words so loud her throat hurts.
The very same year her mother told her about love was the year her mother was attacked in her own home. She was slashed across the face, her eye swollen shut. Ever since then her father just didn’t look at her mother the same.
“Your mother chose death. She chose the easy way out and I’m sorry because I know that’s hard for you.” Her father says calmly.
“The easy way out? YOU CHEATED ON HER. YOU HAD A WHOLE OTHER FAMILY WHILE BEING WITH HER AND IF THAT WASN’T ENOUGH YOU BEAT HER AND YOU CALLED HER NAMES!” she screams.
The look on her faces displays fear as she knows she’s gone too far.
What are you doing? I think. Charlie Sanders runs across the street. I stare I can’t do anything. I shouldn’t care what he does. Then it happens. I most definitely care about what he’s just done.
“CHARLIE WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!?!?!?!?!?!?!!?” I scream.
He lays in the middle of the street. No cars are around. Just him on the ground in his own pool of blood with a black gun in his hand.
There are going to be people that push you so hard you just feel like you can’t get up. I mean this metaphorically of course. If someone really pushes you so hard that you’ve hurt yourself and you can’t get up then you should probably seek medical attention and a restraining order. All kidding aside people are going to say mean things. They’re not going to like you for reasons you may not understand. It may feel wrong to you that they don’t like you. There will be people that don’t like you because of the color of your skin or your religion or your sexuality but that’s their problem. They were probably raised to believe things differently than you or to be non accepting. It hurts but just remember that others around you can help you aren’t alone. You’re not the only person being called these horrible names. Many other people have been and they’ve made it. You can too. Just seek the help of others. No matter what you think there are people that care about you. You’re not alone.
There are the days where you just don’t want to get up. Where the motivation has left you entirely. Now that its summer things are slowing down and although I should be writing more because I have more free time I don’t. I’ve gotten lazy it seems. And I’m hogging my ideas. I just don’t publish them on here anymore. I don’t even get on wordpress much anymore because I have no reason to. The only reason I get on is because of Ryan. I need the inspiration to come back :/.
“What in the world?” sunlight peered through the blinds in my apartment.
I could of swore I closed those blinds, and then I see it. The window latch is broken. I get up off the couch quickly and grab my gun up off of the couch. I move cautiously through my apartment looking for anything out of the ordinary. God I shouldn’t have testified against that guy. William Albert had killed two men without leaving fingerprints. I was the only witness and no one had believed me. They said Mr. Pottenger had committed suicide and so had Mrs. Albert. But I watched him push them over the side of the patio. He threw Mr. Pottenger over because he witnessed it as well. People said that not being able to save Mrs. Albert is why he committed suicide but it just didn’t add up. There’s this whooshing sound and I’m knocked against the wall. I struggle against the body ontop of me.