Author's Note: Guys, I am so unbelievably sorry for the loooong wait! My computer crashed, and all my documents were lost! D:
I hope you guys don't completely hate me. :'(
But! I have observing my surroundings, really getting a better grasp of things, and my writing has improved thus far. Expect me to try my very best, and throw your hardest constructive criticism at me! ;)
…Not too hard. Please. I'm more sensitive than I let on. Ha.
But, until I come up with more chapters, please enjoy this one-shot. I've written it in Blossom's point of view, and it's got a slightly dark theme to it, so if you're uncomfortable with that sort of stuff, I was warning you then. It's sort of how she was feeling in Another Word I'll Never Pronounce, so that was a pretty sad situation then, too. It's gonna be super short. Just something to let ya know I'm still alive.
A Pokemon one-shot will be following up to alert the Pokemon fandom that I'm not dead. ^_^
-Blossom's Point of View-
Pain. Hurt. Hatred. Suffering. My mental health and sanity are on the brink of shattering. Shattering into shards and clouds of debris that fly off and whisper to the wind. Shards and clouds of debris I will never get back.
I have a tortured soul; a soul that has been restricted of a voice, robbed of any kind of loving emotion, and exposed to mental abuse and cruelty and darkness. My heart had been subjected to a morphed, twisted version of love. My innocence was snatched out of my grasp, and I'll never get all the pieces back.
I have been broken. I have been weak. I have been ashamed.
Words have no depth, no emotion, no promise, passion, nor significance to them unless you carefully lace them with a tone. Words can be tactful and intelligent, spoken with a carefully-chosen vocabulary with a tone to match, and, on the rare occasion that they are truthful and honest, words can be laced with passion and love and understanding so strong that you almost forget about all of the pain that sent you in such a downward spiral in the first place. Almost.
But when you're with Brick, you'll learn that his words hurt the most. When he's upset or frustrated, his words can be spat with such sheer hatred and sharp venom that's strong enough to prick your eyes with tears that leave tracks in the same places every time. And it hurt because I believed every word he said. My self respect was at an all-time low. I was slumped to my knees nearly every night crying for weeks at a time. He was the reason why I had my guard up constantly. Some people have very tender, very fickle emotions that can be hurt with the snap of your fingers. But some people were cold and phlegmatic, and I learned that they were that way for a reason.
They don't want anyone to know what they're really feeling, so they put up this façade that everything is okay with them when deep down, they're afraid. They're afraid of pain, judgment, or vulnerability. Demons of a different kind of evil are eating away at their soul, diminishing their spirits to nothing, clouding their mindsets with sadness and suffering.
I was one of those people; one of those people that put on a mask of happiness every day knowing that they're living a complete and utter lie, pretending that everything's fine when nothing is fine.
Of course, no one is born into this kind of mindset. They have to be forced to, have a solid reason as to why they feel that their trust has been broken. It could have been accidental. It could have been done with a purpose. Either way, when they build a wall, nothing or no one can ever tear it down completely. Ever.
But then, if you're truly blinded, then you'd turn around and forget everything that that person did to you and run back to them with open arms. That person is your support system. You're so used to telling them everything and allowing them to protect you that you forget to defend yourself and as soon as something goes wrong, your mind is already pre-set to turn to that one person.
But you have to teach yourself to trust your own judgment, to love yourself before you let anyone else, because when you have that degree of self respect, your heart will be trained to shut out anyone that doesn't deserve any part of you.
But, then again, when you're me, you're half-afraid to fall again and half-afraid to depend on anyone else besides the one who hurt you.