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a nightmare..what was that?a term for a horifying dream haunting your peaceful slumber or the wake of the real world?As emotional as you can be,life is not worth a tear too be shed...for the puddle of catastophe collected as liquid form will not soften the world's eyes.maybe I over react...a single action delivered from the sake of the strangers who claim to know me only lead me into saddness.the more you crawl into your covers with liquid stinging your blinded sight,those strangers are stung with a rejoicing satisfaction to the creation of the fall.Will everything be alright if your porcelain built soul is tampered with by a hurricane?Would it be another ordinary day as you feel yourself bleeding for your own pleasure...the skies will pour down flakes of fire and you will see me watching from a window.another summer and I am forgotten...whether I died in my soul or my corpse had been brutally leaking the crimson life...no one will know. I was in paradise...miniscule speckles of gold drove into the pathway leading me into a castle inhabbited by an unknown man.aside the pathways sat a decoration of floral wonders painted in blood...roses without thorns.my battered up mary-janes stood outside the hinged enterance with little expectation.i was nowhere near heaven nor hell...maybe I was in the space between.And the space between was the door out of reality. Some place painless that can drain your life away...a imagination that can bring you to the castle (my sixth grade dream) to a lost forest...or even your own creative lair.Yes,I feel as if I'm promoting a childhood drug...but hey,reality is cruel and escape is your only way to cure that. "I'm going to go to Harvard!"The night of my eighth grade graduation was the day I began plotting a road in my life.Yes...the goal was to flee from Washington and head off to New England to begin college.Little did I know,those words would not deliver me from Kent.I had the next four years to worry about...but as a thirteen year old I saw nothing disturbing my path to Harvard.Throughout the four years of high school did most damage to my life.Ha.I would pity the thirteen year old girl now...there will be a blockage through your life.Now I watch as other middle school graduates flood around the town with a group of loved ones...or some locked in their rooms hoping to one day flee from Kent as well as I did.Should I go knock on their doors and warn them that this may be the last time they would ever have fun?It was June 14...about minutes to midnight and I was burried in my writings...my sleepyness boiling into a happy moment where I daydream of what would happen five years from that point.The crimson material became my night gown for that night,I had fallen into deep sleep in between the cracks of my thoughts. Yes yes...so where was I five years from that night?June 14 around the edge of midnight I stood small against the height of pain.My Harvard dreams were much forgotten by freshman year,so here I was...18 in the year '02.Graduation happened a year ago...switching to a different town allowed me to skip a grade and forget about the tragedy that occured back in Kent.Now I was officially 18...what to do?Let's see...the 15th of June I fled from home and lived with Josiah for a month.Ha!A month.How lovely.Such a nice happy couple with a kid.Oh and a dear soul he was...as a victim of rape,Josiah took me in and pampered me like a princess.After all he was indeed the one who got me pregnant at the age of fifteen.though,why he was acting so kindly I had no idea.It was good while it lasted.The man I was running away from became a true man.Whatever happened to Josiah I will not say.And as for my son,I am now forbidden to lay my eyes on him.In the end my eighth grade daydream did not bloom to a conclusion...if it were up to me then I would just say that court cases are stupid. the rise of '03 led to only one promise.The same promise from freshamn year lives on.For a year that won't bring suffering.And not only to myself,but to those around me.The lives of faces I've seen had faded...they've finally come to the point where the pool of crimson life leaked nonstop until the last minute on this earth when they realize that sometimes life is worth another day.the permanent scars are burried with them as I sit at their death ceremony garbed in black.Each year I request for that one painless era...that may only last 12 months...but it seems to be getting worse. the cadence of my footfalls harmonized in the alley ways,my crown elevated shaking the ebonite locks tampering my face.The view of the abandoned warehouse unvelied before my eyes.Now Adrien...where was he? |