The morning are cool, I can see the thin layer of frost on the glass of the screen door. Opening the door, the sound of rushed wind , the dew left on the grass. I remember the dandelions, but once they reach the point the begin to disappear with a gust of morning wind. The weed knows its not wanted but continues to grow. For the seed knows it must become more than it is, the plant cant see the seed. The world is here still for another day, tho so am I. My mother takes the stage and clears the schedule for day for its my birthday. I image our small blue and white apartment full with happy faces and the constant "happy birthday" wishes already. I want gage at just the memory of it.
I remeber the blinds. They were thick hanging vertical behind our grey couch. Look to see my mother who had disappered for segments of the day to relieve her nicotine addiction. Its better tho than her locking us in our room to get a good deal on powder. I watch two men white men late 20s early 30s pin down my mother onto the held of the car. They begin to cuff and I watch my mothers face disapper behide the tinted window for people to see out but unseen by us. Thats my last time I "saw" my mom. The memory fades, I realize I space again. The teacher continues to speak about things I no longer care. Just give me the bad grade already.
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The Fall The Regret (Complete)
HorrorA story of four people who live as torctured souls only left to believe death is the only pill they haven't taken yet. This are there attempt at telling the mosters to silence themselves. For depression is one way barbwire not to keep us out, ment t...
