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I can only dream for so long, before they become nightmares. Nightmares I cant escape!

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The questionable doubt! It was not like her to hide herself away, today she seemed more tortured, frightened. She was a ghost to herself, unable to surround herself with the illusions that conjured her putrid smile. In the corner she forever laid, like a silhouette of dreams protected, yet captured by the ambience of life itself. The intelligence of her once intrigued mind fell short with the constant shivers of things that once were. Do I seem myself; do I seem happy to others? Does my prolonged absence from the world affect the way people see me? I can't always be so positive, life has taught me that much. But I've tried for so long to see the good; to see the light that's suppose to forever shine upon me, yet it's so far beyond my reach, however much I try, my jealous being stops me entirely, tying me down, chaining me to the withering of existence that is me. I can only dream for so long, before they become nightmares. ...read more.


So I play a game in my mind, a game that allows me to dictate the outcome, and that provides me with the acceptance of his cowardly soul. If I look through him, can I see what ambition he had? Can I tell his story through my eyes? Yet I've grown out of caring about his particular emotions, or the way his smile is. Time was never on her side, but it was a factor that she become used to. A timeless presence of doubt was always abundant, it clawed and ripped apart the person she once knew, choking and crushing the things that seemed awake in her. Her father was her source of doubt. Like a demon, holding her to him, getting tighter as she grew older, but She would always think about him and the day he left, but never for too long, there was a voice inside of her that protected her from the bellowing and shame of his once gentle voice that always seemed to settle her as she slept. ...read more.


My mother has tried for so long to recreate the image I have made for myself. The image that I am now has scared her. She never looks at me the same anymore, her looks are more disgusted, more tortured and they seem to be on fire. I can feel her slipping away from me. The night is the only time I don't feel safe, I don't feel like me, it's cruel and mindless, possessing a nature of a different kind. If I run, how far will I reach before it swallows me, taking away all that I am, in the night I am a monster, a nightmare that would bring tears to all that saw me. In her mind she was the very reason of all the suffering and pain to others around her, she could only escape the nightmare if the sun was up, for its rays of purity and truth were the only reason she had not become the thing that seemed to corrupt her. She was the meaning which you could not find, the lonely hero that was only visible through the sun. It seemed that nothing would be able to release her from herself. A soul forever doomed. Lauren Herelle ...read more.

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