It's a freewrite story starting from childhood to adolescence. Don't ask me about adulthood. She died by then. Freewrite. When I feel like it. ---- I'll write when I feel like it. Again. .-. After lessons maybe. It's about a child experiencing her life with many traumatizing moments striking her in the abdomen like a sword and in the end she dies from the pain. :3
---- Crayons. The bright, neon, vivid crayons mommy gave to me as a birthday present. The colorful, pretty crayons I use when I color my drawings. They're lying on the floor, broken. The paper. The paper that's made from trees, from the enviroment, something my mommy bought me as well, it's in daddy's hands and he's ripping it... The drawings. Used from mommy's presents. Daddy's throwing them into the fireplace. "Daddy?" ---- When I was 5, I stood alone, against the doorway holding my stuffed animal mommy gave me. My mom and dad were arguing again, about something called divorce papers. Mommy said something about me and how she regretted ever meeting my dad. I was still young and didn't understand, so I thought they were talking about my birthday, which, was going to start in about five days. My father stormed off, leaving my mom alone, collapsed on the couch. She buried her face in her hands but I was too busy playing tea cups with my dolls that were a replacement for friends. As if I needed them at this age. ---- Dad didn't come. I was sitting on a chair, looking straight at a birthday cake which was decorated with pink flowers and icing. I bit my lip and looked at all my "friends". On my right was a teddybear. Left, a rabbit. Nobody came. At this age, I couldn't define the difference between a human between a doll. I was surrounded by toys when I was at a very young age, and I had a phobia of people. Which, in this case, means that I scream when I'm around at least three kids. The fire flickered and I blew it out, taking a huge bite of the cake. My mother smiled sadly and dabbed at her eyes, and I only kept eating, oblivious to the crude fact that I would be celebrating many many more of these birthdays alone. ----- Ripping open my presents. Best. Thing. Ever. Of course, I was fooled into believeing I was the one in the limelight. I didn't wish for anything really, all I did was blow out the candle and smile. The presents were stacked in a lovely pile and I had kept them under my bed, not yet wanting to rip them open. I saw a small box with a tag labeled "Dad". I ripped open the wrapping paper immediately, and a small piece of paper landed on my lap. It said, "Happy Birthday" in plain bold black letters. My mother fumed when she saw it and ripped it, and I looked at the pieces of paper on the floor and began to cry. ----- I had taped the present back together and tucked it inside my pocket, whispering to myself. "Daddy loves me... Right mommy?" My mother sat me on her lap and held me when I cried. I didn't know why I did cry, but I... just did. The overwhelming feeling of it, the slight doubt of me ever having a proper family stung me in the worst ways possible. The phone rang and mommy went over to pick it up, her hand flying to her mouth when she heard what he had said. "I'm moving out and taking Annie with me." ---- This is slightly based off my life, only certain parts of this chapter. Part of it came from the inspiration of the failed marriage my mom and dad had and I wondered what life would be like if I lived at my dad's instead. Enjoy! c: