Two weeks later
I lost it. I lost my baby. When I fell down the stairs. And it's all Damon's fault. It's. All. His. Goddamn. Fault.
Maybe it isn't. Maybe if I allowed myself to be treated like trash my baby would still live... maybe Damon wouldn't have forced and threatened Lola to move out of the state along with all my friends and people I know. Maybe I wouldn't be back to being locked in my bedroom most of the time. To being abused and forced to do things.
Wherever I went, whatever I did, life is just one big crap for me.
Maybe I was born to suffer.
First my mother, the woman who loved me more than anything and never tried to kill me with her love, the woman who was made from kindness and happiness... dead. Because of me.
Then my father. My mum never told me his name. But I bet he's alright because he probably doesn't know I exist. He probably wouldn't even care.
And my stepfather. An abusive prick who made my life nothing more than a dreadful memory. A person I trusted, turned into an enemy. He made feel like a disappointed, an embarrassment, and trash. Guess who else made me feel like that. You got it. Damon. But let's talk about someone else first. Sebastian. Everything bad, everything you were ever afraid of, just in person. As if my life wasn't shit enough. But I also fell in love. With Damon. And I loved him and loved him until the moment he broke me inside permanently. I cried all my tears for him, I went up against everything I believed in, for him. And for what?
What did life give me that wasn't complete trash? My friends? I'm pretty sure they hate for what Damon did to them. My family? Excuse me, who? But I had new family for a short while. I had my baby. And the pain, the excruciating pain I felt when I woke up in the hospital wasn't because of my body aching, it was because of my heart being broken into a million tiny pieces and you can't do anything else than cry. From all the pain I've endured in my life, that was the real pain. It was like gathering all your hope, your dreams, your love, your happiness, everything that was left good in you in a small glass ball, and then having it someone rip it from you and smashing it against the floor like it was nothing.
And with nothing good left in you, you start to disappear. You fade away. There's nothing to live for.
And having someone locking you in your bedroom for the rest of your days isn't helping. Yes. That's what Damon does. He locks me. I don't even have any freedom left.
When I look out of the window, I see the blooming trees. I can almost feel the warm winds against my chestnut hair and the sun on my delicate, pale skin. It's spring.
The birds are flying and chirping, the sun is shining, people start to get out more. Children playing. Beautiful.
There is pain inside me, hurt and sadness. It overcomes everything other than negative emotions.
I don't love Damon. I don't love anyone or anything. Damon loves me. But his love is like a rope around my neck, tightening every time he gets closer. He doesn't understand what it's like to loose your own child. An unborn child. Or how to loose your mother at 15. Or how it is to be abused since then. And when you finally manage to get away, you land from one hell to another. Hell. Earth is my hell. My life is hell. It is like nothing good will ever stay and only bad things will come. 'Everything gets better', I'm sure it does. For you. For your friends. For your family. But not for me. For me, things are only getting worse. Maybe living isn't for everyone.
Nothing is the same once someone takes away your freedom, your free will. It's not like I ever had much of it. But when you really don't have it, everything you do seems awful.
I treasured my freedom more than my life.
I know what you're thinking, 'how depressing'. I often think about myself a few months back, I try to remember good things in my life. But they are all destroyed. Because I, myself, threw my little glass ball of good onto the floor, I watched how it crashed into millions of pieces. I crashed, too. I'm broken.
Into those millions of pieces.
So here I am. Standing in front of my mirror with the last of my tears in my tired eyes.
And I... I hear the water running.