It’s a silent monster that eats up joy, smiles and laughter. Chokes you into the end. This silent monster is called depression. I had suffered this disease since I was seven years old. I still recall the moments I would suffocate myself with alcohol and wake up in different beds of women. This nightmare has sent me to the wall; nailing me to my torture. But like every kidnapped story, the victim becomes brainwashed and fa...
So here I am, once again, sitting down and staring blankly at a blank screen. No ideas come to mind, my passion has gone away. So depressing in all truth, for I love writing and I am bound and determined to making something of it. Even if I have to force myself to write something completely random. So now there's the flower I have as the image of this musing. Pretty little thing, no? We have this one flower bed that is al...
I sit in the darkness, devastated and alone. Wondering where the sun went, praying for its return. Each minute in the darkness feels like an eternity. Each sound, my enemy. Each breath, a reminder. A reminder of the pain infliction my soul. When will the peace come? I love for it, thirst for it. Each new second the darkness grows and with it, my fear of no morning. My darkest hour, heavier than the weight of the world. My...
My dreams consist of torturous realities I dream dreams most would consider nightmares With war and gore But they’re actually just a recap of what happened The day before I used to sleep with a peace that can only be achieved by a child Who can’t see the world and its inevitable tragedies But now I’m just kept awake by a fiend inside of me She’s like the pied piper if you ask me Luring the children out of safety with a pr...
He's outside in the backyardDeep in his own thoughtsWhen thunder claps overheadIn the present, no longer lost. He hears the rain comingWalking across the forest floorRunning to the house for safetyAs close as the backdoor. The storms strikes with voracityPelting the window and paneDeep within him the noiseRaises his internal pain. Sheets of rain continueTo claw at the window glassWhile inside him a larger stormReminders h...
I often get so sad and I'm not sure why, My husband asks me what is wrong and I just start to cry.All these feelings and emotions make me so sad,He wants to help me but instead he just gets mad.He keeps asking me what is wrong and I do not say,He makes it his mission to try and help make my day.But I am in this funk and I cannot come out,There really is no reason and I just seem to pout.Unfortunately, I am in this place c...
The alarm calls out again, pleading with you, begging you to get out of bed; a stubborn siren barely audible over the brewing storm in your head. Why did you even bother setting an alarm; it's not like anyone wants to spend time with you. Nobody wants to listen to the insecure whining of a hopeless loser. The vicious record repeats new versions of the same song. Idiot. You can’t even remember why you set an alarm. You try...
I would call your name over and over; Can you hear me? I would talk slower. I often wondered does he hear? Reading and searching with great fear. I asked the doctors if something was wrong; They said he is delayed, and he will come along. There are so many symptoms as I read; It seems Autism is very widespread. The pain and the anguish starts to happen; Waiting and waiting to start some action. The waiting lists to see sp...
High I stood On the edge I danced My wounds mighty My spirit almost broken Down below the water raged One step closer, one more leap and all this pain would dissipate The fall would be great One deep breath and in sweet oblivion I would rest,not a trace of misery left One final leap was all it would take,one splash and I would be released. The water teased and offered peace,or would I be tricked. The ground under my feet...
This musing only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.Sometimes I feel that the world is a graceless place. Well, alright, I always feel that. For me, every day is a task that I cannot look forward to. But there is no way to rearrange my knickers drawer in procrastination of meeting the morning (or afternoon, on my days off), and I am lacking the ability to pull a sickie and tell...
I stand on the top of the building where I work watching the congested traffic trying to make its way out of the city after a long hard day’s work. It's Friday, and it seems the entire city has decided to leave at 4pm to get an early start to the weekend. Horns blast and angry voices yell out the open car windows as some try to get that one car further ahead than the others. At the next set of lights the flashing blue and...
This is a compilation of 4 micro fictions... making it a short flash fiction. Hope you enjoy. *** She walks slowly down the stairs from their little bathroom. Her stomach is sick, and she feels weak, but at least she'll be skinny- she'll look like all those beautiful girls in those magazines. She picks her backpack up, which feels like it weighs a ton, and walks out the door and to the bus stop. Right past her mother, ri...
The ledge was only a few steps away, beneath lied the end, the solution and a new beginning. I’ve been thinking about this for a while. My mother’s boyfriend seems to be the root of all my problems, even though I know it’s not possible. The other day my father told me that I seemed different that weekend. He asked if everything was okay at my moms, and of course I lied and said everything was fine. I looked over the ledge...
To Write A Story Get up. Get out of bed. Get dressed. Brush teeth. Skip breakfast. Go to class. Pretend to care. Go home. Sleep. Eat dinner. Sleep. Get up. Get out of bed. Get dressed. Brush, brush, brush those teeth. Feel the pangs of hunger. Ignore them. Get to class late. Sleep. Go home. Sleep. Eat dinner. Sleep. Sleep, sleep, sleep. Can’t sleep. Can never sleep. Monotony. A monotonous affair as stagnant as the Dead Se...
Oh just let me be the black hole, Suck up all your happiness And teasing words, Spit them back out as a bitter apology, a worthless, desperate cry of help... Stars die and plants shrivel, and as far as your smiles go, they're just depressing reminders of how far I've got to go.
