Woah, this whole story thing just hit me like a train, I have no clue where
this is going. This is so weird. . .
" God Dammit! Just leave me alone!" The blood in my body boiled. I could feel my ears ringing. My hatred surged through my veins, poisoning my every thought. I ran through the door, barely managing to get a pair of sandals on my feet. I ran quickly, I just wanted to get as far away from this place as I could. I stared off into space recalling events of the past, my past. The past I hated.
"Yeah, well you know what? Your father just lost his job!" Those horrible words rang in my ears as if they'd just been said. Yet that was a while back. Two years to be exact. I shuddered as I recalled a fight I'd had with my mom, two years ago, in August. I couldn't even remember what it was about, but it was the beginning.
After that, everything in my life started to decline. My family came first. My dad started hating us more and more. But me being the person I am, would never back down from a fight. I'd gotten hit many times before because of that. One time stuck out in my mind, the September after my dad lost his job. I can't remember what exactly happened, but my dad came rampaging into my room with a huge pair of pliers and screamed at me that he was going to yank every single tooth out of my head. Needless to say, I ran. I ran pretty far away, encouraged by the pure adrenaline pulsing through my veins.
I'd run away many times, but I'd always come back. I'd always run to different places, farther and farther each time. That is, until he started drinking. I'd never known my dad to drink, even on holidays. But one day, I found him drinking. That scared me pretty badly, so even though it was the middle of a very bitter winter, I ran yet again. I got frostbite that day, but I didn't care the least bit. When darkness sent in, and I was forced to go home, I was welcomed with another beating. I wouldn't back down.
The soft, warm wind brought me back to reality. I felt tears bubbling up beneath my eyes, but I fought them down. I forced myself to think of my friends, what friends I had left.
My friendship with many people had started to decline at the beginning of school after my dad lost his job, and a year later, I found that my last friendship was declining rapidly. I never had a really good time with my friends, some backed away because I was starting to turn on the world, and I was no longer the happy, funny, hyper kid they used to know. Others I had to leave, my patience wearing thinner and thinner every day, until the point I could put up with them no longer. I felt alone in the world, but I still fought on.
My grades along with everything else, were sucked into my downfall. It was like a wall was slowly being built between me and my teachers. I had a harder and harder time understanding and comprehending what they were trying to tell me. So eventually my hope started to also slip into oblivion.
I found myself lost, confused, and angry at the world. I had no one to console me. No where I belonged. Every day was a fight on the inside, just to keep living. Living for an unknown cause. I suppose if nothing else, I lived to never back down, thus sending me spiraling down farther and farther with every beating, every insult. And I had nothing I could hold onto.
An angry breath escaped my lips. I looked up to find myself deep in the woods, my feet unconsciously carrying me. I knew where I was going, it was a place I'd been before. Many times before, it was my hiding place. I slowed down and tried to control my thoughts, the sound of trickling water reaching my ears. I sighed and ducked under a branch, eager to get to my destination. I fought my way through an almost solid wall of brush, and emerged in my hiding place. My breath slowed to nearly nothing and I silently walked to a rock, sitting on the edge of a crystalline stream. I looked around me, the rock was sheltered by a willow, its branches guarding and protecting. The ends of the willow branches dipped into the stream and floated along limply, tethered to the trunk of the tree. I sat down and peered into the stream. I knew this stream well, it held many a tear of mine. I sighed and leaned against the trunk of the willow, the sounds of the water captivating me and swirling in my mind, as if it could wash out all my thoughts so I could start to think anew. The trees whispered in the warm breeze, and the stream answered back. I sat in the middle of this, forgotten for the moment. And I lost all account of the world around me, slipping into a void between consciousness and sleep.
I saw the most horrible things to ever happen in my life. In that void, I relived every fight, every horrifying image, everything that went wrong. I felt every beating, the pain coming back. I felt every time my cheeks burned from an insult. I felt every friend I'd ever had slipping away.
I came back to consciousness, my breath coming in short, painful gasps. I slowly became aware of searing hot tears tracing burning paths down my cheeks. I felt my last shard of hope slip away.
I eyed the creek quickly, knowing what I was about to do. I slipped into the creek and submerged my face in the clear, cool water. Somewhere deep inside me, an innocent girl, the face of my past, screamed. As I took a breath of the water.
Ok, I decided slightly what I'm going to do with this. Yes, I know this makes no sense, but keep in mind that it's a prologue, and the rest of the story wouldn't make sense without it, so kindly don't review asking what the heck this has to do with LotR, seeing as I just told you. So I'll try and get the next chapter up soon so this will begin to make sense.
" God Dammit! Just leave me alone!" The blood in my body boiled. I could feel my ears ringing. My hatred surged through my veins, poisoning my every thought. I ran through the door, barely managing to get a pair of sandals on my feet. I ran quickly, I just wanted to get as far away from this place as I could. I stared off into space recalling events of the past, my past. The past I hated.
"Yeah, well you know what? Your father just lost his job!" Those horrible words rang in my ears as if they'd just been said. Yet that was a while back. Two years to be exact. I shuddered as I recalled a fight I'd had with my mom, two years ago, in August. I couldn't even remember what it was about, but it was the beginning.
After that, everything in my life started to decline. My family came first. My dad started hating us more and more. But me being the person I am, would never back down from a fight. I'd gotten hit many times before because of that. One time stuck out in my mind, the September after my dad lost his job. I can't remember what exactly happened, but my dad came rampaging into my room with a huge pair of pliers and screamed at me that he was going to yank every single tooth out of my head. Needless to say, I ran. I ran pretty far away, encouraged by the pure adrenaline pulsing through my veins.
I'd run away many times, but I'd always come back. I'd always run to different places, farther and farther each time. That is, until he started drinking. I'd never known my dad to drink, even on holidays. But one day, I found him drinking. That scared me pretty badly, so even though it was the middle of a very bitter winter, I ran yet again. I got frostbite that day, but I didn't care the least bit. When darkness sent in, and I was forced to go home, I was welcomed with another beating. I wouldn't back down.
The soft, warm wind brought me back to reality. I felt tears bubbling up beneath my eyes, but I fought them down. I forced myself to think of my friends, what friends I had left.
My friendship with many people had started to decline at the beginning of school after my dad lost his job, and a year later, I found that my last friendship was declining rapidly. I never had a really good time with my friends, some backed away because I was starting to turn on the world, and I was no longer the happy, funny, hyper kid they used to know. Others I had to leave, my patience wearing thinner and thinner every day, until the point I could put up with them no longer. I felt alone in the world, but I still fought on.
My grades along with everything else, were sucked into my downfall. It was like a wall was slowly being built between me and my teachers. I had a harder and harder time understanding and comprehending what they were trying to tell me. So eventually my hope started to also slip into oblivion.
I found myself lost, confused, and angry at the world. I had no one to console me. No where I belonged. Every day was a fight on the inside, just to keep living. Living for an unknown cause. I suppose if nothing else, I lived to never back down, thus sending me spiraling down farther and farther with every beating, every insult. And I had nothing I could hold onto.
An angry breath escaped my lips. I looked up to find myself deep in the woods, my feet unconsciously carrying me. I knew where I was going, it was a place I'd been before. Many times before, it was my hiding place. I slowed down and tried to control my thoughts, the sound of trickling water reaching my ears. I sighed and ducked under a branch, eager to get to my destination. I fought my way through an almost solid wall of brush, and emerged in my hiding place. My breath slowed to nearly nothing and I silently walked to a rock, sitting on the edge of a crystalline stream. I looked around me, the rock was sheltered by a willow, its branches guarding and protecting. The ends of the willow branches dipped into the stream and floated along limply, tethered to the trunk of the tree. I sat down and peered into the stream. I knew this stream well, it held many a tear of mine. I sighed and leaned against the trunk of the willow, the sounds of the water captivating me and swirling in my mind, as if it could wash out all my thoughts so I could start to think anew. The trees whispered in the warm breeze, and the stream answered back. I sat in the middle of this, forgotten for the moment. And I lost all account of the world around me, slipping into a void between consciousness and sleep.
I saw the most horrible things to ever happen in my life. In that void, I relived every fight, every horrifying image, everything that went wrong. I felt every beating, the pain coming back. I felt every time my cheeks burned from an insult. I felt every friend I'd ever had slipping away.
I came back to consciousness, my breath coming in short, painful gasps. I slowly became aware of searing hot tears tracing burning paths down my cheeks. I felt my last shard of hope slip away.
I eyed the creek quickly, knowing what I was about to do. I slipped into the creek and submerged my face in the clear, cool water. Somewhere deep inside me, an innocent girl, the face of my past, screamed. As I took a breath of the water.
Ok, I decided slightly what I'm going to do with this. Yes, I know this makes no sense, but keep in mind that it's a prologue, and the rest of the story wouldn't make sense without it, so kindly don't review asking what the heck this has to do with LotR, seeing as I just told you. So I'll try and get the next chapter up soon so this will begin to make sense.