A story of an orphaned girl, ebony hair of her father...crystal eyes of her mother.
She hated him. Ever since mother had died, he had been an ass. He moved them from the circus to an old house in Oklahoma. He blamed himself, so he lost himself in drinking. The only thing was, he was an angry drunk and his daughter took the blows without a cry. For a nine-year old she was tough. She taught herself in all the subjects after they moved and also kept her acrobatic sills honed in strong places and improved in weaker areas. She even took up knife throwing and self defense.
None of that mattered, though, when he screamed at her and slapped her. The pain of it had long since died, only a muted pinch was all she felt when his strong arms thrust a hit at her and a dull throb of sound when he screamed. No, the pain had long since left her physical and mental realms, pain was her life now. No longer did she hide or cower, but stood there until it was over.
Crăpături uscatetrăsnetdincer
Acestenori de furtunase aduna inochii ei
As a storm brew up, she watched the news channel. She knew her father would be back soon. As always on April 1st, he stayed at the bar longer and drank so much more.
Tatăl ei a fost un mister vechi de medie
Mama a fost un înger în pământ
Omul meteo solicitat o twister
Ea sa rugat sufla-l în jos
Her father stumbled into the room, not even giving her a second glance. He was completely wasted this time and his hangover would undoubtedly result in a large bruise or the taste of blood.
A small smirk graced her dry lips as she new he was out cold. As barbaric as it may be, she prayed he never wake up. Somehow, sometime; she vowed she would get revenge.
Ea a auzit sirenele alea strigau
Tatăl ei pus acolo a trecut pe canapea
Ea însăși blocat în pivniță
A ascultat țipând de vânt
Sirens blasted the night as she calmly placed her feet on the stone steps and sealed the doors of the cellar shut. The concrete floor was cold but her heart at the moment was so much more so.
The wind picked up by a few miles per hour until it was roaring and thrashing like a caged animal. A smirk grew on her face at the thought of how similar the two of them were; her and the wind.
Spulbera orice "fereastră til totul cu sufletul la gură departe, Nu e suficient de ploaie în Oklahoma Spulbera orice "fereastră til totul cu sufletul la gură oaspeți (spulberat) Sufletul la gură departe, cu sufletul la gură departe, cu sufletul la gură departe, cu sufletul la gură departe, cu sufletul la gură departe
Fiecare caramida, fiecare bord, în fiecare ușă trântind cu sufletul la gură departe
"Til nu mai e nimic în picioare, a mai rămas nimic de ieri
Fiecare lacrima de memorie saturat whisky cu sufletul la gură departe,
spulberat
Pentru a spăla păcatele din casa
Nu e suficient vânt în Oklahoma
Pentru a rupe unghiile din trecut
Fiecare caramida, fiecare bord, în fiecare ușă trântind cu sufletul la gură departe (cu sufletul la gură departe)
"Til nu mai e nimic în picioare, a mai rămas nimic de ieri (cu sufletul la gură departe)
Fiecare lacrima de memorie saturat whisky cu sufletul la gură departe,
The only thing in her mind as the ripping of brick and wood filled her ears was a single word. Revenge.
Unii oameni au numit-o luând adăpost
Ea a numit-o dulce răzbunare
ok so this was my first attempt at a song fic, tell me what you think! virtutal peeps to all those who do!
Disclaimer: No, I do not own the bolded words nor do I own YJ so...ya.