The Life I Kept From You

My Bittersweet Goodbye

MUST READ: I added the first chapter to this story on so if you read this BEFORE i put the first chap up then you might want to rewind up a bit x) 

Same Messgae as before guys: 

... I MIGHT add more eventually, but who knows? MAYBE i will if enough people like it ... I dunno haha x) I Hope you like it! 

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Grab. Rip. Burn. Throw.

Throw the memories away. Grab them, tear them apart, let the flames devour them, and throw them out of my life. 

Grab.

I lifted one of the many photos which were scattered across my single bed. My black, and silver laced comforters and my dark violet bedsheets and pillows were sprawled out on the floor. I had thrown them off in a fit of raw anger.

Rip.

I clamped my pointers and thumbs on either side of the photo, and slowly  tore it in two halves. I pressed the halves together, and hovered the image of shattered memories above the candle. I stared at the flame. It looked beautiful. Just as all candle lights do. It’s amazing how something so beautiful could afflict so much pain on a being.

Burn.

I lowered the image toward the flame.

Lower. Lower. Lower. The flames licked at the image. It ate it up like candy. I stared. The image was slowly burning away. The paper shrunk and coiled at it’s edges and corners, slowly dragging upward.

Throw.

Once the flames made their way halfway up the split photograph, I raised it. The flames grew greedily, as if wanting more and more. I held the half ruined image delicately between my finger and thumb, before throwing it a couple of mere feet away. I watched as it continued to burn. The flames continued to lick endlessly at it. In seconds, the entire image was swallowed whole. Once the flames died out, it would be nothing but a crumbled, destroyed mess. A destroyed mess of memories.

Grab. Rip. Burn. Throw.

Grab. Rip. Burn. Throw.

I burned them all. All of the images of my family, and myself. All of the memories of happiness.

Grab. rip. Burn. Throw.

The process repeated itself over and over, in an endless cycle. As I reached over for the next photo. My fingers never met the next photograph. I padded around my bed, searching for the next memory to erase. I turned my head around swiftly, my dark brown locks swirling with me.

…That was it. I had thrown out the last one. The last of the memories of my parents. My eyes slid shut, as my head bowed. I grabbed a single pillow off the floor, and laid it down at the end of my bed. I slowly sunk down, letting my head fall limply on the pillow. I let the warmth absorb me.

My eyes flipped open once again. I gasped. So many images…flashing before my eyes.

My mother. My father. The gun. The Knife. My Father sprawled out on the floor. The blood. The Last Glance. My Mother crying. The Fire. The Phone call….The End. The end of everything I once knew. My eyes squeezed shut. I tried to block the memories out. Each image that slid across my eyes like a movie were like each large daggers thrusted deeply into my flesh.

The scenes continued to play themselves, even with my eyes shut. They even seemed to go slower, just to be spiteful. The daggers in my flesh were now twisting themselves around in a full circle. My torso shot upward. A loud gasp escaped from my lips.