Frightened but not afraid [Open]
May 22, 2015 10:53:37 GMT -5
Post by Death Do Ones Part on May 22, 2015 10:53:37 GMT -5
Aria Chase
"Fuck off before anything bad happens."
"Fuck off before anything bad happens."
I walked along the bustling streets of district one. A seathed knife in my pocket, my hand twirling it around, trying to distract my mind as I glanced at the peacekeepers. I kept glancing at their guns, unable to take off my eyes off, afraid they will suddenly point at me and shoot.
My fear of guns did not at all help my situation, running from my parents yet again after getting into another fight, which last time when I had left the house, the peacekeepers brought me back in a horrid state or continuous PTSD and them pointing their guns at me.
As one noticed my gaze, I sucked in a breath and kept walking, walking quickly in between the people and pulled over into a warehouse.
In the warehouse was some targets I had set up, some hidden weapons beneath some hay stacks, in which I took up a bag of throwing knives, and began to take one and throw, take one and throw, take one and throw, each hitting the center.
I winced as a blade cut open my skin and I looked at my bleeding thumb and threw the knife. I missed the target entirely and in frustration and rage I threw down the bag and sat down, hugging my knees and rocking back and forth.
My parents calling me a psychopath was a normal thing. .Like me going out alone was a normal thing and me returning have PTSD attacks and peacekeepers pointing guns at me were normal. My trauma of the past has left me weak, mental weak.
But strong. The will to do what I need to do. But I couldn't right now. My breathing was shakey, uneven and shallow, my whole body was trembling and I couldn't hear anything but the blood rushing through my veins. I began rocking back and forth, trying to distract myself with something. I didn't, dont' want to remember anything. Think anything.
I struggled to slow down my breathong, breathing deeply and slowly, agonizing my lungs as they screamed for more oxygen. Of course I did not resppnd to my lungs and slowly stood up, picked up the back and threw a knife so hard my arm hurt.
Then i let out a heartbreaking scream, release the pent up rage i had from my parents and the hatred I had for myself. I let out a chocking sob and held back my tears. I wanted out. I wanted to go and participate in the games to prove them wrong about me. That I'm strong and I can get by on my own.
I rummaged through my pocket and took out a pill that I had bought from a friend. It had always helped me calm down and feel happy about myself. I always struggled to redeem myself. Evem now.
(Im new to tjis coding sorry.)
My fear of guns did not at all help my situation, running from my parents yet again after getting into another fight, which last time when I had left the house, the peacekeepers brought me back in a horrid state or continuous PTSD and them pointing their guns at me.
As one noticed my gaze, I sucked in a breath and kept walking, walking quickly in between the people and pulled over into a warehouse.
In the warehouse was some targets I had set up, some hidden weapons beneath some hay stacks, in which I took up a bag of throwing knives, and began to take one and throw, take one and throw, take one and throw, each hitting the center.
I winced as a blade cut open my skin and I looked at my bleeding thumb and threw the knife. I missed the target entirely and in frustration and rage I threw down the bag and sat down, hugging my knees and rocking back and forth.
My parents calling me a psychopath was a normal thing. .Like me going out alone was a normal thing and me returning have PTSD attacks and peacekeepers pointing guns at me were normal. My trauma of the past has left me weak, mental weak.
But strong. The will to do what I need to do. But I couldn't right now. My breathing was shakey, uneven and shallow, my whole body was trembling and I couldn't hear anything but the blood rushing through my veins. I began rocking back and forth, trying to distract myself with something. I didn't, dont' want to remember anything. Think anything.
I struggled to slow down my breathong, breathing deeply and slowly, agonizing my lungs as they screamed for more oxygen. Of course I did not resppnd to my lungs and slowly stood up, picked up the back and threw a knife so hard my arm hurt.
Then i let out a heartbreaking scream, release the pent up rage i had from my parents and the hatred I had for myself. I let out a chocking sob and held back my tears. I wanted out. I wanted to go and participate in the games to prove them wrong about me. That I'm strong and I can get by on my own.
I rummaged through my pocket and took out a pill that I had bought from a friend. It had always helped me calm down and feel happy about myself. I always struggled to redeem myself. Evem now.
(Im new to tjis coding sorry.)
template by chelsey
sorry
