Consider me as a piece of paper. You crumple it until it's no longer straight and beautiful. How much you try, how long you'll keep going, it will never be the same; a straight canvas.
This was me. I was beaten and when he found out he tried to help me, and get me back to my old self. And how much I wanted, I could never let that piece of my past slip away into the nothing, like it was never there.
But even though I knew his help wouldn't get everything away, I let him try. He did allot and he even gave me moments I would forget everything, then it was only me and him, no one else. But even he, the one I began to love, couldn't keep me away from the hell I like to call life.
He helps me climb up to the top of the cliff, only to push me off again.
But that's just life, and I can't control it.
!! I was 11 years old when I started writing this story and I didn't even have English as a subject. So excuse me for my horrible writing, vocabulary and grammar. I'm just too lazy to edit it :) LOVE Y'ALL!!