20111008

Remember, Remember.

It's snowing.....

I've forgotten what it felt like against my face.

Melting...

Melting...

You know that girl I told you about a while ago?

That little dorky, blonde haired girl?

She always loved the snow.

The only time she could be amongst angels.

That was before she was locked away though.

You remember that depraved father of hers?

His relentless torment never let up.

You could see it in her face... that ragged smile... hopeless eyes...

It became so apparent that people started to notice.

Especially the mother.

Salvation?

One winter night, after a huge storm I think, that mother walked in on the two.

The father's weight pressed down upon the choking little girl...

The mother was shocked... scared(?)... confused...

The little girl saw hope. The barest glimmer. Her heart was beating faster. She KNEW she was going to be okay.

Until she watched as her mother turned around and left, closing the door behind her.

Acceptance?

It was at this moment that that little girl realized she had no family.

Only demons.

Not running rampant in her mind. No.

They stood over her outside her mind.

Though that damned father made damn sure they were inside as well...

......hmm...

I'm going to go play in the snow...

get sick...

Maybe die...

Cause in death, winter lasts forever.

10 comments:

  1. Don't An, seriously, come over, spatter paint my walls and, hell, you can live here if you want. god knows i need some sort of female interaction.... besides my cat....

    ReplyDelete
  2. Anarchitect, I assure you, as much of a literal monster I may be, you will always have a place as my friend, and I will always look out for you even if the sides we fight for oppose eachother. Also, I have blood from all of my housemates, mind if I drop by and give them to you?

    ReplyDelete
  3. ... are we supposed to feel sorry for you?

    ReplyDelete
  4. You don't have to, but I do. Even though we're "enemies", I still care about her and will fight to the death to ensure her safety.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Spencer, Teller, whatever you are currently, if you don't feel sympathy then feel empathy.

    Anarchitect, I don't hate you. I'm not going to donate, but I don't hate you.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Sister, had I known you then, I would have rescued you. I'd have let you cut them and cut them and kept them alive so that you could cut them until you grew bored with your toys. Then we'd have painted the walls with their blood and organs and stolen their bone to make wind chimes.

    ReplyDelete
  7. What tigercub said, but with more skinning and salt pouring.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Anarchitect...don't feel like dying. I know you're stronger than that because you took the other option. You took the choice to kill instead of die.

    I know. I know how it feels.

    It's better to be eaten alive by rage than sadness.

    We do really need to chat sometime. Sooner than later. I can lend a listening ear, as can you. Hell, you even get blood. Just please refrain from stabbing me in the kidney....I kinda need that. My ass is less essential.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Nate: Don't forget the lemon juice.

    Lucia: I can't not say this after that domment. DAT. ASS. XDDDDDD

    Vic here: she's tired. She's legit been running around the house all day doing stuff like painting and fixing some random things.... oh look, she just passed out. Thank god she prefers to blog on the bed instead of the table or something.... that sounded so wrong....

    ReplyDelete
  10. ....Thank you everyone...

    Especially you Spencer... heh...

    ReplyDelete