Ok, so that is part of a great project (all here, stuck in my mind). But since I'm renowned not to finish almost anything I start...I can't assure you'll ever read its end.
Yet, by reading only this brief chapter, you won't be involved to death, so...take a look! And let me know ;)
(From Gwen's point of view)
I was crying.
Lying down on my bed, I was crying.
Crying like I'd never done in my whole life.
Crying desperately, senselessly, endlessly, and no one could stop my pain.
Crying with the knowledge that something was inevitably going away from me, something I couldn't bring back; because I wouldn't be able to, I wouldn't let someone else suffer like me.
I was crying my heart out. Unstoppable tears, sobs and spasms were filling every single piece of my soul. Yet nothing –nor the hunger, the headache, the sorrow or the loss of my sanity- could dismiss the true cause of that all from my mind. Nothing, and no one –neither my friends or my family. I felt truly alone in a world whose negative karma was hitting me strongly. I found myself wondering why... why it was up to me. But it did. It just did.
And now I was there, crying, worse and worse –no end in sight, no way out.
Unless...
No!
It would be easy, pleasant...no more hurt.
Shut the freak up, shut the freak up!
No. What a stupid thought! It wouldn't be easy at all. The fear to see my brother's heart racked became immediately stronger than anything else; and I was sure my mother would never get over it.
But I'd die anyway, I could feel it... the feeling of a dark future -where everything is going to fail, where the hope is only an illusion. The feeling that anticipates a night with no sunrise... it was penetrating my very essence and I couldn't stand it anymore.
I needed a distraction. But the only distraction I could think about, was the only one I couldn't have...
Stop it! Please, please, stop it!
I would have liked to cry so badly to lose my voice, and memories be lost with it; but it was only the silly idea of the desperate girl I was. Nothing would really relieve my situation.
It was only after tossing and turning all day long in my bed, I finally found the strength to get up and do anything in my own power to calm myself down.
Tottering, I reached the desk and sat heavily in front of it. There were some random stuff on it but only one of them caught my attention: my diary.
My hands were shaking uncontrollably, yet I somehow manage to open it...I breathed deeply... I wasn't completely sure about the help writing would give to me; I'd have toremember, to stamp my best and worst moments on paper and that would hurt –it was inevitably. But it was hurting anyways for I couldn't keep the stream of memories out of my mind. I had to tell somebody; somebody who couldn't judge me, nor comforting or blame me –somebody neutral. And I knew nobody was as perfect for the role as my personal diary.
Good & bad reviews are well accepted -I need to improve my skills!