As I sat on the edge of my bed, staring out my bedroom window, a
thought came to my head. What is life? I know, it sounds like a pretty dumb
question. But do you know? I don't think anyone does. I sit here every
night thinking of questions like these. Like always though, I end up
getting frustrated. And being frustrated causes me to cry. So why do I do
it? I wish I could answer that.
I stood up off my bed, not wanting to leave the silver glow of the moon hanging in the sky. My mirror was shining in the light, almost daring me to look into it. Of course being the weak person I am, I gave in. As I sat infront of the mirror, staring back at me was someone I did not know. The dark circles under my eyes, my long blonde hair, tangled and dull. What caused the most pain were my eyes. I never looked straight at myself. The pain I would see.I knew I couldn't handle it. They used to be a bright blue, almost crystal. Now, they just stare. Blank and emotionless. Just a dull, dark blue, like the clouds on a rainy day. The tears falling from my eyes now like a mid-summer rain.
Of course, I could never tell anyone of my problems. How I sit here every night, staring at the stars and moon, crying. They are just like me. All alone in an unknown world. No one to share their happy times or feelings with. But it's not the stars I feel closest too. It's the moon. When I look at it, the dark spots and intricate designs drawn on it like a painting, I feel something inside of me. Something I don't feel very often. I actually feel a part of it. Like, I have a bond with the moon that I just can't quite put my finger on. That's not what brings the tears to my eyes, though. It's the fact that I know I will never be able to touch the moon, or feel it in my grasp. To feel a part of something, but will never be able to hold, is something that breaks your heart.
There are a lot of things going on in my head. Things a lot of people wouldn't understand. Mostly because they experience 'real'feelings. Not the ones of depressed people. When people of this manner come out to show everyone their real self, the one who cries and has emotions other than happy and accomplished, they are shunned. I am shunned. For some people, there are only a few emotions the 'real' people are allowed to feel. So naturally, when new people come along, not acustom to the rules of the real world, loneliness is really the only option left.
A creak outside my door shook me from my daze. I knew who it was. The same person it always is, their only goal being to tear up what confidence in myself I had left. Of course, it happens to also be the one person who should be helping me build onto that confidence. Fate has an odd way of dealing with things though. Once in a while, it seems to pair up with Caos, just to make my life all that much more unbearable. The worst part of this being I can't prepare for it anymore. Not physically, or mentally. Definatley not emotionally. Basically, I had to just roll with the punches. Slowly and quietly, I walked to the door. I stared at it for a while, knowing what lied just on the other side. It mocked me, as if getting some sick pleasure from being able to stare blankly while it happenned. Let it stare. It's not as if it would help me even if it could.
I turned the handle, trying to make no sound, knowing I would be punished greater if I did. Like a child seeing the world for the first time, I peeked out the door. My eyes wide with terror, filled with tears wishing to scream for help. Shaking, I opened it wider. I was right. Same as usual, waiting for me. God knows what he finds amusing about this, and if God does, I'm sure He's disgusted. I keep asking myself why I let this continue on. Letting what I had left of a soul, or so I liked to call it, be beaten to nothing more than pieces of dreams and goals scattered everywhere. I used to be a happy person, the one who could make a whole room glow just by stepping in. Always the smiling girl, even if it was raining or someone had commented on something horrible about me. I think that's where it started. Letting people walk over me as if I was so unknown to the world, I was nothing but a pile of dust being kicked around, their emotions being swirled. Too many times had I disregarded their comments and actions towards me, letting it pass by as nothing. Everyone else seemed to handle it quite well enough, I figured I could too. So, not knowing what the eventual outcome would be, I shrugged it off as an everyday happenning, figuring everyone was made fun of constantly, wether it was seen or not. If only I had known then what I do now.
In the corner now, I hugged my knees close to my chest. Handing me a pillow, I took it as usual, and covered my mouth with it. Hiding my face in it as well, I cried. Into the night sprang my screams of remorse. Fot not realizing my future. Or what was left of it. As the swift pains came more close together now, I felt a dark haze surrounding me. Comforting in it's own way, yet scaring me, I decided to take what comfort I could. Taking me in like a thick fog, I began to breathe slower now. Knowing I would sleep soon, I relaxed, no longer feeling the outcome of my fathers hard day. The kicks and punches began to fade away as if they were feathers gently landing about me. Closer to sleep now, I closed my eyes tight, trying to find that small light that came for me every time. I found it, and basked in it's warmness, feeling the new life pour over me like soft kisses from a child. No longer feeling the pain, I let go, knowing everything would be back to the routine the next morning.
I stood up off my bed, not wanting to leave the silver glow of the moon hanging in the sky. My mirror was shining in the light, almost daring me to look into it. Of course being the weak person I am, I gave in. As I sat infront of the mirror, staring back at me was someone I did not know. The dark circles under my eyes, my long blonde hair, tangled and dull. What caused the most pain were my eyes. I never looked straight at myself. The pain I would see.I knew I couldn't handle it. They used to be a bright blue, almost crystal. Now, they just stare. Blank and emotionless. Just a dull, dark blue, like the clouds on a rainy day. The tears falling from my eyes now like a mid-summer rain.
Of course, I could never tell anyone of my problems. How I sit here every night, staring at the stars and moon, crying. They are just like me. All alone in an unknown world. No one to share their happy times or feelings with. But it's not the stars I feel closest too. It's the moon. When I look at it, the dark spots and intricate designs drawn on it like a painting, I feel something inside of me. Something I don't feel very often. I actually feel a part of it. Like, I have a bond with the moon that I just can't quite put my finger on. That's not what brings the tears to my eyes, though. It's the fact that I know I will never be able to touch the moon, or feel it in my grasp. To feel a part of something, but will never be able to hold, is something that breaks your heart.
There are a lot of things going on in my head. Things a lot of people wouldn't understand. Mostly because they experience 'real'feelings. Not the ones of depressed people. When people of this manner come out to show everyone their real self, the one who cries and has emotions other than happy and accomplished, they are shunned. I am shunned. For some people, there are only a few emotions the 'real' people are allowed to feel. So naturally, when new people come along, not acustom to the rules of the real world, loneliness is really the only option left.
A creak outside my door shook me from my daze. I knew who it was. The same person it always is, their only goal being to tear up what confidence in myself I had left. Of course, it happens to also be the one person who should be helping me build onto that confidence. Fate has an odd way of dealing with things though. Once in a while, it seems to pair up with Caos, just to make my life all that much more unbearable. The worst part of this being I can't prepare for it anymore. Not physically, or mentally. Definatley not emotionally. Basically, I had to just roll with the punches. Slowly and quietly, I walked to the door. I stared at it for a while, knowing what lied just on the other side. It mocked me, as if getting some sick pleasure from being able to stare blankly while it happenned. Let it stare. It's not as if it would help me even if it could.
I turned the handle, trying to make no sound, knowing I would be punished greater if I did. Like a child seeing the world for the first time, I peeked out the door. My eyes wide with terror, filled with tears wishing to scream for help. Shaking, I opened it wider. I was right. Same as usual, waiting for me. God knows what he finds amusing about this, and if God does, I'm sure He's disgusted. I keep asking myself why I let this continue on. Letting what I had left of a soul, or so I liked to call it, be beaten to nothing more than pieces of dreams and goals scattered everywhere. I used to be a happy person, the one who could make a whole room glow just by stepping in. Always the smiling girl, even if it was raining or someone had commented on something horrible about me. I think that's where it started. Letting people walk over me as if I was so unknown to the world, I was nothing but a pile of dust being kicked around, their emotions being swirled. Too many times had I disregarded their comments and actions towards me, letting it pass by as nothing. Everyone else seemed to handle it quite well enough, I figured I could too. So, not knowing what the eventual outcome would be, I shrugged it off as an everyday happenning, figuring everyone was made fun of constantly, wether it was seen or not. If only I had known then what I do now.
In the corner now, I hugged my knees close to my chest. Handing me a pillow, I took it as usual, and covered my mouth with it. Hiding my face in it as well, I cried. Into the night sprang my screams of remorse. Fot not realizing my future. Or what was left of it. As the swift pains came more close together now, I felt a dark haze surrounding me. Comforting in it's own way, yet scaring me, I decided to take what comfort I could. Taking me in like a thick fog, I began to breathe slower now. Knowing I would sleep soon, I relaxed, no longer feeling the outcome of my fathers hard day. The kicks and punches began to fade away as if they were feathers gently landing about me. Closer to sleep now, I closed my eyes tight, trying to find that small light that came for me every time. I found it, and basked in it's warmness, feeling the new life pour over me like soft kisses from a child. No longer feeling the pain, I let go, knowing everything would be back to the routine the next morning.