Thursday, August 31, 2017
Ruma J's Favourite Soft Drinks
Friday, August 25, 2017
Homelinks Week 5
This week for homelinks I decided to do a quick write. Here is my story that I wrote with the sentence starter: "I thought you accidentally sliced your hand open."
"I did."
"Then why aren't you bleeding... at all?"
"I did."
"Then why aren't you bleeding... at all?"
“I thought you said you accidentally sliced your hand open.”
“I did.”
“Then why aren’t you bleeding… at all?” A daunting expression comes across my friend’s face as she realised the truth.
I thought I could trust her, but I guess I was wrong. My mother always said “no one could be trusted” I never believed her but now I wish I had.
From that day forward no one spoke directly to me. I guess she spread my secret… I can’t believe I trusted her. The pain of betrayal is more severe than I ever imagined. It hurt more than any wound ever would. I feel like I’ve been torn apart in every way possible, inside and out.
I need to get away from here, away from them and all the pain; where can I go? This is the only place I have ever called home, I don’t think it even classifies as a home but to me it’s all I could ever ask for and more. I have no clue as to how i’m going to leave…
As I pack my belongings, too many memories crash in my brain and i’m left in a mess on the floor. I stay like this for what seems like hours, but is only minutes, as I try to sort my emotions out. They remain unsorted, I remain a mess and the pain is worse than before. I remember who I was before and who I am now. I remember my mother finding me. I remember my ‘Dad’, I remember all the good times. I remember the bad. The tears don’t stop flowing.
I hear a knock at the door and in steps my Mum. I dry my tears with the closest thing I can find, a blanket that was once loved and cared for but is now left lying around. I steady myself enough to stand up and walk over to the door, I reach around to hug her but she disappears.
Tuesday, August 22, 2017
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)