Thinking that she could save a soul and bring it back to life, Skylar had agreed to a mysterious stranger, the Phantom to give what was rightfully hers in the most profane way. Things started to go down hill for Skylar after that, causing her to lea...
Here is an update, something I wrote on 15th of July, specifically designed for Chapter Two of this story.
Happy Readings
C H A P T E R 2
A V O I D A N C E
begins now
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
₪₪₪§§§₪₪₪
"I couldn't prosper . . .
I couldn't even move ahead with time, only existing within moments, remaining static. My days are as monotonous as my being. Everything is viewed in a monochromatic frame. I survived one day to the other without my own will.
I couldn't kill myself, I couldn't live. I am the exact definition of a walking dead and it is maniacally hell. To live your life – your will excluded.
I am a puppet except my puppeteer was missing. I wonder where he went, leaving me aimlessly around - unwatched. Those evasive thoughts he projected into me - those were torturous. While it damaged me magnificently, it strengthened me at the same time.
Now . . . well, as for now, I can only cascade from one day to the other, no progression on my state, but I must go with it. Well, I don't have a choice but to do this. To survive this game call life. whoever said life was short obviously lied.
I lose the number of times I want to scream so loudly and let it echoes across the universe, letting it be channelled into every human being just so that they could understand my rawest feelings that have been embedded in me. I want somebody else to hold my feelings for me, like a solid object, in their hand, while observing how fragile it is at the same time. I dot of pressure being shoot into its direction and it shatters like glass. I feel like clawing my heart out and crushing it in my hand while I see the blood stream down my hand – crimson red and beautiful.
But I know no matter how hard I try to scar myself physically, I can't. I am a monster. What have I become?
I couldn't prosper.
Hence, I remain this way.
Breathing . . . but soulless. "
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
