The song Crawling by Linkin Park in their CD, The Hybrid Theory inspired me
to write this piece. It is a little morbid and sad. This is not intended
for young readers for it has some bad language, sexual content, abuse, and
thoughts of suicide. Since I hate it when people ramble on a lot, on with
the story!
Disclaimer: I do not own Sailor Moon or Gundam Wing, nor shall I ever be that talented to do so. Please do not sue me, for I am just a hyperactive fan.
1 Crawling
Prologue
Darkness. Pain. Anguish. Those words come to mind every time it happens, every sickening time. I know that people could tell something was wrong with me. On the street, they would stare in wonder at me. Thinking why I dress the way I do. Why I am so desolate, cold, and silent. They have no idea what goes on inside behind those giant, shielding walls that pen me in. They can't hear the screams of pain or the moans of pleasure through the thick, brick walls of the quiet house. They don't know, and I never want them to know. Whenever I think of those naïve people on the streets, I think of my journals. My journals are my only sanctuary. It is where I keep my secret conversations about my punishment with people. It is where I safeguard all my stories and sketches that come through my mind after my punishment. If anyone ever saw my journals, my sanctuary would be shattered, dissolved, gone. Then, I'd be alone. Something I feared worse than punishment.
It almost seems like a dream during my punishment. Like I was watching it happen and not being able to do anything about, as if it wasn't happening to me, but someone else. Sometimes I imagine myself walking through the counselor's door and telling her about my punishment, asking her what I did wrong to deserve it. But I can't. I know that once I step through that door, my punishment would end and something else would happen. I am afraid of that something else. It is worse than my punishment. It is something that terrifies me so much that I know that if it ever happened again, I would die. After that something else, I would write about it in my journal. I also draw pictures of the dreams that follow that something else, trying to understand the meaning of it. It never works. I try and try, but it never works.
Sighing, I pushed back my dyed black hair and continued covering up the signs of my punishment. It wasn't too hard, only a purplish, yellow bruise under my right eye. That is why I wear such dark eye make up, to cover up the remains of my punishment. Only after the worst punishments do I get to miss school. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to go to school, so I can escape the weird stares or the cold attitudes directed at me in the halls and class. However, I knew that if I stayed home everyday, I would be left alone with him. And I knew that when left with him, I receive Punishment, repeatedly, like a broken cassette tape that just repeats the same song no matter how many times you try to fix it. Closing my eyes I took a deep, ragged breath, and strode out my bedroom door, only taking a fleeting glance at his door before quietly sneaking out the kitchen door. I never know why I always make sure he isn't there, he is always asleep when I leave. I make sure of that.
I'll try to write the next one quickly, but no promises. ~shyne~
Disclaimer: I do not own Sailor Moon or Gundam Wing, nor shall I ever be that talented to do so. Please do not sue me, for I am just a hyperactive fan.
1 Crawling
Prologue
Darkness. Pain. Anguish. Those words come to mind every time it happens, every sickening time. I know that people could tell something was wrong with me. On the street, they would stare in wonder at me. Thinking why I dress the way I do. Why I am so desolate, cold, and silent. They have no idea what goes on inside behind those giant, shielding walls that pen me in. They can't hear the screams of pain or the moans of pleasure through the thick, brick walls of the quiet house. They don't know, and I never want them to know. Whenever I think of those naïve people on the streets, I think of my journals. My journals are my only sanctuary. It is where I keep my secret conversations about my punishment with people. It is where I safeguard all my stories and sketches that come through my mind after my punishment. If anyone ever saw my journals, my sanctuary would be shattered, dissolved, gone. Then, I'd be alone. Something I feared worse than punishment.
It almost seems like a dream during my punishment. Like I was watching it happen and not being able to do anything about, as if it wasn't happening to me, but someone else. Sometimes I imagine myself walking through the counselor's door and telling her about my punishment, asking her what I did wrong to deserve it. But I can't. I know that once I step through that door, my punishment would end and something else would happen. I am afraid of that something else. It is worse than my punishment. It is something that terrifies me so much that I know that if it ever happened again, I would die. After that something else, I would write about it in my journal. I also draw pictures of the dreams that follow that something else, trying to understand the meaning of it. It never works. I try and try, but it never works.
Sighing, I pushed back my dyed black hair and continued covering up the signs of my punishment. It wasn't too hard, only a purplish, yellow bruise under my right eye. That is why I wear such dark eye make up, to cover up the remains of my punishment. Only after the worst punishments do I get to miss school. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to go to school, so I can escape the weird stares or the cold attitudes directed at me in the halls and class. However, I knew that if I stayed home everyday, I would be left alone with him. And I knew that when left with him, I receive Punishment, repeatedly, like a broken cassette tape that just repeats the same song no matter how many times you try to fix it. Closing my eyes I took a deep, ragged breath, and strode out my bedroom door, only taking a fleeting glance at his door before quietly sneaking out the kitchen door. I never know why I always make sure he isn't there, he is always asleep when I leave. I make sure of that.
I'll try to write the next one quickly, but no promises. ~shyne~
