Pierce
Enjoy, feel free to type what is on your mind, but Please do not rewrite it. Thank you. ;)
Just breathing is a pain. Standing I place one leg in front of the other. Struggling to continue forward I fall. My heart stops. No more will I live.
I jolt awake. My heart beats wildly as I try to sit up on my bed. Body covered in a heavy sweat I stumble to the bathroom. My face is paler than usual. I try to stop my erratic breathing. Where are they! Damn where ARE THEY! I open the medicine cabinet scrambling for my needed substance. I pull the top off my iron pill canister and gulp two down dry. I slide down the bathroom door and smile sadly as my heart rate disembarks.
Feet pad against my room carpet moving toward the bathroom toward me. I scoot across the linoleum so that my mother can open the door. She opens the door seeing me on the floor she copies my expression. I watch the worry in her eyes and know that she is getting ready to schedule another meeting with the psychotherapist.
I nod in understanding. Standing I inch past her and head for the linen closet. Pulling out clean sheets I dress my bed. I spend the rest of the night balled up in emotional pain. I can't escape life. I've never been able too.
When the alarm goes off the next morning I try to heed away the excruciating pain and I can't. I scream for my mother. "Turn it off! Please! Make it STOPP!" I scream she does. I still feel the pounding. I'm on the floor crying out, begging for help for someone to stop the terrible pain. What I didn't know that on that day he would arrive to kill my heart and build my new one.
I jolt awake. My heart beats wildly as I try to sit up on my bed. Body covered in a heavy sweat I stumble to the bathroom. My face is paler than usual. I try to stop my erratic breathing. Where are they! Damn where ARE THEY! I open the medicine cabinet scrambling for my needed substance. I pull the top off my iron pill canister and gulp two down dry. I slide down the bathroom door and smile sadly as my heart rate disembarks.
Feet pad against my room carpet moving toward the bathroom toward me. I scoot across the linoleum so that my mother can open the door. She opens the door seeing me on the floor she copies my expression. I watch the worry in her eyes and know that she is getting ready to schedule another meeting with the psychotherapist.
I nod in understanding. Standing I inch past her and head for the linen closet. Pulling out clean sheets I dress my bed. I spend the rest of the night balled up in emotional pain. I can't escape life. I've never been able too.
When the alarm goes off the next morning I try to heed away the excruciating pain and I can't. I scream for my mother. "Turn it off! Please! Make it STOPP!" I scream she does. I still feel the pounding. I'm on the floor crying out, begging for help for someone to stop the terrible pain. What I didn't know that on that day he would arrive to kill my heart and build my new one.
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