She's running. Faster and faster, she can see the ground below sough her feet. It's dark. She's alone. Have not this happend before? Yes, so many times.The path is narrow, but she does not care. The only thing she wants is to get away from there. Avoid thinking. Despair. Hate. Loneliness. The branches scratched bloody wounds on her bare arm. Everything is meaningless. She is meaningless. Would anyone notice if she disappeared? Would anyone care? She wakes up next morning, the night had been horrible. She had no idea how she got back to her house and in to his room. The damn house. The house she had been trapped in for so many years. As usual the only thing she could remember was meaningless ... Meaningless, loneliness, hate and pain. The anxious took over hand, into the girl where only emptiness ruled. She threw herself back on the bed, her head thudded into the hard pillow. She took a sorrowful sob. What had she done to deserve this kind of life? She pulled the quilt over her head, hiding the cover of the darkness.
God does not exist, she knew That for a fact now. Even if she did not exist, she did not care about her. Damn Good. She hated herself Because she was so weak. She hated herself for feeling sorry for herself. She despised herself for not trying. She told herself thatthere were far more people out there with worse troubles than her own. She got angry. How could she be so selfcentered?
It's hard, very hard.
She knows That she can not make it by herself.
But who could help her?
Who could come and rescue her, and put an end on everything, before something serious happened?
It's hard to be positive and happy When ones inner is filled with disappointments and lies.
She can not be honest to herself anymore.
It's gone to far, she knows that.
But she can not do anything anymore.
She has lost the control, she's just Following.
The time is passing by so fast, but yet to slow.
She lies. But she does not say anything. Sure, people wants to be with her. They like her. But it's the wrong girl That is being liked. They do not know the real girl. Do not know if that girl even exists. When she meet people, When She's spending time with Those Who calls themeselves his friends, she's happy. But it's wrong, so wrong! The real girl is The One That runs alone in the night. The girl who cries When noone see, screaming When noone hears. She hides her bruces and scratches well. Noone will ever know, not suspect anything. She's never in the gymclass, Because she's scared That someone will see. The others does not know. The girl is skilful. It has taken her years to build the facade she's hiding behind. The laughs, the false laughs. Who are the idiots who calls themeselves her friend? Can not They See that something is wrong?
Constant fear. She's afraid of herself. Afraid That someone will reveal her secret, at the sametime she want's someone to. So she could be free. She sighs and shuts her eyes stinging. She relaxes. Soon she will be asleep, but she will not dream anything beautiful. She's Laying at the bottom of the sea, it's deep. She can breath, but she does not know for how long. A light pressure over her chest. She can not feel it, but she knows. She tries to swim up to what she thinks is the surface. Calm, strong strokes. But she can not. She can not get anywhere. She gets sucked down, over and over again. She can feel the panic coming. She starts to breath faster, more violent. The pressure over the chest gets heavier, the air is getting thinner. She's aware of That She's trapped. She can not escape and there is no one there to save her.
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