Love. Happiness. Family.

Faith looked out the window and sighed to herself. Today was another one of those days, a day that made her wish that she was anyplace but here. She tried to pay attention to the guest speaker but her mind kept drifting off to the cruel punishment that awaited her at home.

She closed her eyes, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. Failing to keep the tears at bay, she quickly excused herself out of the lecture and raced to the bathroom. The bathroom was a fair size with enough space to move around. As always the trash can was over flowing and the retched stench of urine burned her nostrils.

The clouded mirror on the wall reflected a person she did not know. Their eyes were swollen and the ray of hope that once shone there was now dead. The once healthy brown hair that flowed gracefully down her back now lacked nourishment and was jagged. The things that made her beautiful now made her look like another child who had given into a drug that was sucking the life out of her.

Her addiction was what was killing her. It wasn’t smack or weed but something much better. All she needed was a blade or anything with a sharp edge. It started with a scratch, an accident really but it was there that the realization hit her. The emotional and psychological pain she felt was nothing compared to the breath of fresh air that the scratch did. It was then that her addiction started. It is an intoxicating reminder, whisperings of an addiction to that of a blade. The feelings unexplainable as all the pain seeps out carried away by lost blood. No real reason for it and so hard to understand. No matter what she tries, it is her only release.

Love. Happiness. Family.

These were the words she whispers over and over. Words which were more than just words to her. Instead it was a desire, a yearning. A dream that will never be made into reality. She stared into her faded green eyes and longed for the day they reflected life. She ran her hands through her dark brown hair and along the surface of her naked, porcelain skin. Fingertips grazing across the scars that her addiction left.

Small slashes, each tell their own story. A story filled with pain and regret. A longing for a better life. A life without grief and a life without strife. Her body was simply an empty shell. The shell of someone she used to be. The shell of someone she wanted to be. A shell scarred and bruised by those she sold it to. A life she never foresaw. A life she regretted, yet a life she delves deeper in at the awaking of each moon.

Upon her arm laid a beautiful pink scar. Three slashes in a row running down her flesh, an intoxicating reminder. A message from her past, present, and future. Whispering her addiction to that of a blade. The feelings unexplainable as all the pain seeps out. She closed her eyes, crying because she knew as night falls a new customer awaits and there in the dark she gives physically present yet mentally, emotionally, spiritually absent.

In time she knows that her soul will grow cold as the pages of her life begins to unfold. The plight of this life she begins to regret and between each ragged breath and immature stroke of her client, she contemplates whether death would be a kinder fate.

Speak to her of suffering, you must not dare because she does not fear hell since she is already there. Hours after her nightly encounter she stared at her foreign reflection, so deeply consumed she just wanted to scream. Shattered is her soul, like so many of her dreams.

Love. Happiness. Family.

She whispers to her pain stricken face. No hope that her heart would awaken, her soul may then rise, her walls would break, her mind sympathize. She shall remain broken until these times come to pass. Her mind in pieces  like mangled shards of glass.

Love

She loads the gun so deeply consumed. This must end as all things do, so she may bury her pain and begin anew.

Family

She takes a deep breath, to their pleas she shall give no pause. Through the pain they shall know her cause.

Happiness

She pulls the trigger.

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Snowflakes

Snow is pure, white, and simple,
Like the soul when it first enters the world.
Each human is born a perfect snowflake,
Each one different, not one the same.
Some of the flakes may look identical,
But closer examination reveals the deeper differences.
Some snowflakes clump together,
Surrounding themselves with like-minded friends.
Others seek the solace that comes from being alone.
But every soul is a snowflake.
Pure, white, and simple.

First the snowflake falls,
Some drifting slowly to the ground,
Some blown by the winds,
Buffeted in directions that they can hardly understand.
For some, they cannot tell which way is up.
But eventually all the snowflakes end up on the ground.
There the snowflakes lie,
Some surrounded by others.
Some exposed to the winter’s sky.
But every soul is a snowflake.
Pure, white, and simple.

The ones on top can see the world as it truly is,
Complete in the glory of its shooting stars,
Galaxies and nebula, planets, and life.
Those that are surrounded by others
Sometimes see nothing except for a need to rise to the top,
To see what the privileged few see.
Snowflakes on the bottom reach for some acknowledgement.
Always overlooked when making snowballs,
They cry out for an attention rarely heard by those willing to do anything.
But every soul is a snowflake.
Pure, white, and simple.

The sun comes out eventually,
And the snowflakes begin to melt.
The hardy hold on for longer than the others,
But soon even the hardy are gone for now.
The essence of the snowflake,
The water which made it up,
Flows on forever,
Coming back again and again,
Seeing a different perspective everytime.
And every soul is a snowflake.
Pure, white, and simple.

So live like you’ve no end.
Once you’ve found someplace where you can rest,
Set out to learn about what’s at the top.
Use unheard of tactics,
Where kindness and generosity get you farther,
Then simple back-stabbing and bribery.
You’ll soon find yourself at the top,
Welcomed by those whose patterns resemble yours.
That is where true happiness is.
And then you’ll see how every soul is a snowflake.
Pure, white, and simple.

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The Lake House

I’ve run away to a place where no one can find me. I’ve started a new life, a better one. They say that there is no way to run away from life but I’ve successfully done it.

I got up one morning, grabbed the little one, bought a plane ticket and left. I have nothing but I found everything in my little house by the lake. Its cozy and amazing. The butterflies surround the house, almost like a fairy tale. I’m living in an enchanted house I tell them.

My little cottage house by the lake is small and enchanting. Its breathtaking, surrounded by trees and flowers. The two story house has a stone path and two porches, one upstairs and one down.

This is love.

I’ve filled the porch with floors to attract butterflies and hummingbirds. We sit and watch them from the kitchen window while we make breakfast. Today we’re making pancakes and bacon. This child of mines loves bacon. The laughter that fills the kitchen is contagious.

We move from the kitchen to the dining room. I’ve thought him how to set the table. He does an amazing job every time. One time, we had to eat with our hands because he forgot the forks.  It was a silly day. Thank goodness I made chicken and fries.

Within the dining room there are pictures and puzzles framed on the wall. All of them done by my son and I. We call this room our family room. We eat on the table that seats a family of four. The centerpiece is of fresh picked flowers.

The living room has a brown living room set. It blends perfectly with the beige walls of the room. The television is surrounded by pictures and movies. In the corner sits a game station with tons of board games and game consoles.

Family game night is my favorite. Even though its the  two of us for now, the house is filled with fun times and laughter. We run from the dining room to the living room. Don’t touch the floor, its HOT lava!

We have a guest bedroom and bathroom downstairs. There are three rooms upstairs and one bathroom. It’s cozy and I like it. The back porch is stunning, leads out to the lake. One hot days we make lemonade and dip our toes in the water.

When winter comes we bundle up tight, go sleighing, build snowmen,  and have snowball fights. We drink hot chocolate with whipped cream to warm up and snuggle under the blankets. Silly socks are worn to keep the monsters at bay.

This is love.

I’ve severed all contacts from the homeland. I don’t want to be found but I know that one person will find me. They will find always their way to me without my guidance. Its inevitable.

This family of two will soon become a family of three. Three will then become four as my stomach expands while the months pass us by. Four will quickly turn to five as the children will have Dakota (dog), to guide and protect them.

The months will pass us by and time will fly.

This cottage by the lake, my escape from reality, lives in the deepest trenches of my mind.

A fantasy…

Just a daydream…

Never to be a reality…

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Credit: Wilmot, South Dakota with 1st Choice Real Estate.

Who Are You?

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Unable to meet his gaze, her eyes are cast down in her lap. The conversation is deep, uncomfortable. It’s vulnerable. In that moment she wishes that the earth would open up beneath her and swallow her whole. Unfortunately, it doesn’t and she is forced to answer the question that she’s been dreading to hear.

Who are you?”

A question asked because the answer was at the moment a need to know. Her dirty little secret was about to come out and things may go down hill from there. Her first instinct is to lie. To become the person he wanted her to be and not the person she was in that moment. Instead, she went with a more cautious response…

“What do you mean?”

She felt proud of herself. She didn’t had to lie but she didn’t tell the truth either. She merely answered the question with a question. It was something she knew he hated but with her if she was lucky then she would get a pass. Unfortunately, tonight was not her night. He wasn’t giving her the pass she so desperately desired.

“Don’t tell me until you want to,

but my trust is gone til you do.”

It was then that she looked up at him, their eyes didn’t meet. They couldn’t. It was as if he had physically hit her and part of her wish he did. A hit she could take. She grew up with brothers and fighting was nothing to her. It was the gut wrenching hole his words left within her that bothered her. She had his love, that was the easy part. However keeping his trust seemed to be a harder task than holding his heart in her hands.

She wanted his trust, desired it even. It was like the part of her was fighting to hold onto it but it felt like she was losing. His trust seemed to be slipping from her like sand gliding through her fingers. She didn’t want that. Who would?

“In this moment, who am I talking too?”

She paused and looked down. This was the moment of truth. This would be the time where she would have to be at her most vulnerable and most exposed. This was the dark secret she hid from the world with ease and the secret he wanted to know, to get to understand. This was her moment of truth.

“I am two sides of the same coin.”

I am two sides of a coin. I go by two names, two very different personalities but we share the same body. We are different as night and day. I live for the thrills and she would rather read a book. Switching will occur from time to time. During those times, one loses track of another. Seconds turns into minutes. Minutes turns into hours. Hours turns in to days. Days to weeks and so forth.

Losing time became a regular. We left notes to each other. Today I did this….Yesterday I did that. We adapted….until we fell in love with two different guys. The fight for dominance came at an all time high. One heart going this way and the other pulled in another.

This is my secret

Even though she avoids his gaze, she feels him watching her. She holds her breath unable to hear his next question that she anxiously awaits for.

“What do you want?”

“You.”

The question answered with relief floating in the air. However, this question still goes unanswered.

Who are you?”

Am I the girl you fell in love with or am I the girl who has to pretend to be the girl you love?

“Who

are

you…”

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Silver Tears Fallen Angel

I started something in 2003…Tell me if you think it’s worth continuing. It’s something that I would like to complete and cross of my procrastination list. Thank you for your opinion.

Silver Tears Fallen Angel

She awoke with a start only to hear the thunder. She could hear the rain on the veranda and assumed the storm had just started. With reluctance, she climbed out the bed and made her way toward the French windows. Since the room was quite stuffy she left the windows open, for the air was quite chilly. The room was completely dark, and the rain muffled all her sounds as she crawled into the bed and fell asleep.

Sometime in the middle of the night, she slowly drifted out of sleep and listened to the raindrops softly hitting the veranda. She slowly crawled out the bed and made her way toward the windows.

She then covered her ears to block the screams. The screaming had to stop. She couldn’t stand it another minute, but she knew she was helpless to save them. Her family, and her best friend Nikki, with whom she’d ridden to the edge of the forest with was all gone. She was lucky to survive with only a few bruises, cuts, and scrapes. She had taken a blow to the head that made her memory blur but she could still hear the screaming. She looked around her and looked at all the survivors of the village.

The assassin’s speared the children but the parents weren’t as lucky. She had counted about one infant, two ten-year-olds and four teenagers, myself included. Most of the children were taken as slaves or died of illness or dehydration. Before they left the village they buried the dead and tried to find as much food ad possible but that was impossible due to the fire.

We were even lucky enough to find this abandon house, it wasn’t much but offered us protection from the rain and the animals. We started a small fire but it soon died out due to the wind and rain. We had little food and water that wouldn’t last us until nightfall the next day. We could only hope for things to get better the next day.

Things didn’t get better the next day it only got worst. The infant died with a fever that we tried to prevent. The illness spread like wild fire and soon two more of us took ill. We needed water but the lake pasted through the assassin’s camp and I couldn’t afford any more of us being captured. By the end of the day we were captured by the assassins and became slaves. Days passed and we were sold into slavery, by nightfall we tried to escape but was captured again and punished with the whip and harsh labor.

I was supposed to be punished to death but instead I went to a slave market. The first thing I noticed was that the humans was kept in cages. The cages were worn and rusted, showing how long they had been there. It was then that I noticed it had started to rain. The cages offered very little shelter and I shivered. I was thrown into a very small cage that barely had room to move around in. I crawled into a corner and started to cry.

I was afraid for my life and also what they would do to me if they found out I was fimena. In my village it meant that I was a cat goddess. My green eyes glistened with tears as my tail wrapped protectively around my waist. Once more the cage opened again and food was thrown in, it was some type of meat and bread. The sight of it only made my stomach turn and I pushed it away as the man looked in the cage.

“You’re going to need it little one. For it will be your last meal for the week,” he said. He then noticed my tail which was still wrapped around my waist and grabbed it. I cried out in pain and which only made him pull it more. My vision started to blur for my tail was the most sensitive part in my body. He laughed then let my tail go as my body went limp.

He then turned and called another guy over. He stared into the cage and looked at me. He smiled and I smelled the alcohol in his breath. He reached in and grabbed my tail and pulled me towards him. I cried out in pain and he smiled.

“It looks like we’ve got ourselves the catch of the day. Many will pay big money for her. It’s often rare to find a fimena,” he laughed thinking of all the money they would make of me which made me back away from him with fear in my eyes. It only angered him as I backed away and he pulled my tail harder, which only made me whimper in pain. He smirked and slammed the cage door shut.

I closed my eyes and whimpered as I wrapped my tail around my waist. I crawled in the corner of the cage and watched as people walked around buying slaves. I closed my eyes, shutting out the world until I heard someone say.

“How much for that fimena over there”

Most likely needs editing and such. This is just the original version.