I have no clue where I'm going with this guys.
Day 1; Monday, December 9th
Her head hung low, she hadn't felt this bad since her dad found out that her mother had been sleeping around...he was the 3rd man in the woman's life. Yet many years after she sat in the office being prescribed más medication silence the depression.
"There is no hope for you. No future, not one that's good anyways."
Day 2; Tuesday, December 10th
Triggered por her 4th defeat, she was so close. But anytime she bought herself to do anything it seemed she could never win. Kicked out of college (not forgetting to bring her sisters down with her) all in vain for Magix still remained a realm with no queen. Yes she had accomplished much, the witches still acknowledged her as one of the most powerful women to set foot on the campus but on days like these that slipped her mind.
"Failure, loser, good for nothing"
Day 3; Wednesday, December 11th
por now it dawned upon her that no one really cared for her. The popularity she had about 4 years before had all been an illusion. Though they laughed at her jokes and shouted words of praise it was all just a lie...spur of the moment. And she realized it was true--fame, popularity--doesn't bring tu any genuine love. If it did, when she slipped up that same año they would have supported her rather than celebrated her defeat...or perhaps she screwed up too much for even friends to care. This train of though always lead to the men. Used. That's how they always left her feeling. They placed her on a pedestal...so long as she did their bidding. Valtor, and Darkar, and just what the Hell was she thinking with Tritannus? They were all different but with one commonality; they didn't need her, only the skills she had to offer. And when they had enough power they threw her to the ground. She was...is just a pawn.Perhaps everyone would be best off without her
"Nobody likes you, tu have no friends, you're unwanted, unlovable"
Day 4; Thursday, December 12th
She couldn't help but think of how she treated her sisters when she was with the 3rd (she came to know the men who lied por only numbers on día 3, their names to painful to even think about) they dicho that it was fine but she knew deep down they're relationship wouldn't be quite the same. If it was Darcy and Stormy would be here with her despite her telling them to "go have fun". Surely they would have insisted that it was find, they'd rather make sure she's okay.
"Alone."
"Well Deserved."
Day 5; Friday, December 13th
It's been 5 days since she last brushed her teeth, took a shower, o ran a comb through her long enredados silver hair ("such a shame everyone used to think it looked so good"). The nube of sorrow weighed too heavy for her to bring herself out of bed. At this point she had ran out of tears, even the silent ones. All that remained were streaks of mascara running sloppily down her cheek from día 2, the last día she was able to haul her culo out of cama and paint her face on, as her own didn't seem to satisfy her. Thank God for the lack of mirrors in her room, surely she looked thrice as repulsive now.
"How did tu ever think about mostrando your face to anyone. No wonder they were all so afraid!"
Day 6; Saturday, December 14th
Perhaps some expensive wine drank in excess would sooth the pain away because the cutting surely didn't. Intricately etched into her skin (some of it scarring over) in hues of rosado, rosa and red--depending how fresh--were various lines as well as words 'bitch' 'slut' 'useless'. They were spread unevenly down her legs and up her arms and for reasons most odd to beholders the word 'fat' cut boldly across her belly. The cuts released certain euphoric energy (that eased the pain proprietorially). The physical pain a distraction, a welcome one at that. She'd rather feel the sting and the blood flow down her arm than feel the hurt of the words she whispered to herself. But after the fact the cuts only added más emotional pain and served to reminded her más of who she was. The psychical pain became less pleasurable and what she thought, deserved after all the pain she had caused. She downed her third glass that hour.
"Ugly, vial, stupid, whore. Ugly, vial, stupid..."
Day 7 Sunday, December 15th
Feeling sickly and tiered (the dark circles under her eyes proved such), she hoped to God there was a way for her to be redeemed. But after so many years of being the bad guy...impossible. Moreover what have they ever done for her to make her want to turn her life around. They see her as evil and nothing more, they never will. She wished she was never born, that her mom would have gotten an abortion, o that she would have been dropped on the head at birth. "Oh God it hurts so much." She did it, she pulled herself out of cama with new found determination. Working quickly she fumbled through her escritorio for a blank sheet of paper and a pen. She found herself able to cry again. This time so violent her body shook and her breaths came out uneven and forced. Her thoughts jumbled trying to think of how to say goodbye--would it be scornful and hateful, full of pointing fingers, stating exactly how she felt about them all o heartfelt and genuine. She took a deep breath and let it out. Genuine, it'd be genuine.
"You shouldn't even be alive. How dare tu live when no one wants you?"
Days later; Monday December 25th
It's been 10 days since she downed the pills and slit her wrists (fatally that time). 10 days since Darcy found her. 10 día since Stormy had her rushed to the E.R. 10 days since they attempted to save her. 9 days since they announced she'd be okay. 8 days since Darcy and Stormy reminded her they cared, and that should have been there, should have seen this coming. 7 days since the cuts healed over and only 6 since she gave her first smile in a long time. 5 days since she got herself out of cama to decorate their apartment for the holidays. And 4 days since she followed her sisters to downtown Magix. 3, since she had made amends with the 6 she once tormented. And 2 since the last of her sorrow seemed to wash away. Today wasn't perfect, but it was a good start.
Day 1; Monday, December 9th
Her head hung low, she hadn't felt this bad since her dad found out that her mother had been sleeping around...he was the 3rd man in the woman's life. Yet many years after she sat in the office being prescribed más medication silence the depression.
"There is no hope for you. No future, not one that's good anyways."
Day 2; Tuesday, December 10th
Triggered por her 4th defeat, she was so close. But anytime she bought herself to do anything it seemed she could never win. Kicked out of college (not forgetting to bring her sisters down with her) all in vain for Magix still remained a realm with no queen. Yes she had accomplished much, the witches still acknowledged her as one of the most powerful women to set foot on the campus but on days like these that slipped her mind.
"Failure, loser, good for nothing"
Day 3; Wednesday, December 11th
por now it dawned upon her that no one really cared for her. The popularity she had about 4 years before had all been an illusion. Though they laughed at her jokes and shouted words of praise it was all just a lie...spur of the moment. And she realized it was true--fame, popularity--doesn't bring tu any genuine love. If it did, when she slipped up that same año they would have supported her rather than celebrated her defeat...or perhaps she screwed up too much for even friends to care. This train of though always lead to the men. Used. That's how they always left her feeling. They placed her on a pedestal...so long as she did their bidding. Valtor, and Darkar, and just what the Hell was she thinking with Tritannus? They were all different but with one commonality; they didn't need her, only the skills she had to offer. And when they had enough power they threw her to the ground. She was...is just a pawn.Perhaps everyone would be best off without her
"Nobody likes you, tu have no friends, you're unwanted, unlovable"
Day 4; Thursday, December 12th
She couldn't help but think of how she treated her sisters when she was with the 3rd (she came to know the men who lied por only numbers on día 3, their names to painful to even think about) they dicho that it was fine but she knew deep down they're relationship wouldn't be quite the same. If it was Darcy and Stormy would be here with her despite her telling them to "go have fun". Surely they would have insisted that it was find, they'd rather make sure she's okay.
"Alone."
"Well Deserved."
Day 5; Friday, December 13th
It's been 5 days since she last brushed her teeth, took a shower, o ran a comb through her long enredados silver hair ("such a shame everyone used to think it looked so good"). The nube of sorrow weighed too heavy for her to bring herself out of bed. At this point she had ran out of tears, even the silent ones. All that remained were streaks of mascara running sloppily down her cheek from día 2, the last día she was able to haul her culo out of cama and paint her face on, as her own didn't seem to satisfy her. Thank God for the lack of mirrors in her room, surely she looked thrice as repulsive now.
"How did tu ever think about mostrando your face to anyone. No wonder they were all so afraid!"
Day 6; Saturday, December 14th
Perhaps some expensive wine drank in excess would sooth the pain away because the cutting surely didn't. Intricately etched into her skin (some of it scarring over) in hues of rosado, rosa and red--depending how fresh--were various lines as well as words 'bitch' 'slut' 'useless'. They were spread unevenly down her legs and up her arms and for reasons most odd to beholders the word 'fat' cut boldly across her belly. The cuts released certain euphoric energy (that eased the pain proprietorially). The physical pain a distraction, a welcome one at that. She'd rather feel the sting and the blood flow down her arm than feel the hurt of the words she whispered to herself. But after the fact the cuts only added más emotional pain and served to reminded her más of who she was. The psychical pain became less pleasurable and what she thought, deserved after all the pain she had caused. She downed her third glass that hour.
"Ugly, vial, stupid, whore. Ugly, vial, stupid..."
Day 7 Sunday, December 15th
Feeling sickly and tiered (the dark circles under her eyes proved such), she hoped to God there was a way for her to be redeemed. But after so many years of being the bad guy...impossible. Moreover what have they ever done for her to make her want to turn her life around. They see her as evil and nothing more, they never will. She wished she was never born, that her mom would have gotten an abortion, o that she would have been dropped on the head at birth. "Oh God it hurts so much." She did it, she pulled herself out of cama with new found determination. Working quickly she fumbled through her escritorio for a blank sheet of paper and a pen. She found herself able to cry again. This time so violent her body shook and her breaths came out uneven and forced. Her thoughts jumbled trying to think of how to say goodbye--would it be scornful and hateful, full of pointing fingers, stating exactly how she felt about them all o heartfelt and genuine. She took a deep breath and let it out. Genuine, it'd be genuine.
"You shouldn't even be alive. How dare tu live when no one wants you?"
Days later; Monday December 25th
It's been 10 days since she downed the pills and slit her wrists (fatally that time). 10 days since Darcy found her. 10 día since Stormy had her rushed to the E.R. 10 days since they attempted to save her. 9 days since they announced she'd be okay. 8 days since Darcy and Stormy reminded her they cared, and that should have been there, should have seen this coming. 7 days since the cuts healed over and only 6 since she gave her first smile in a long time. 5 days since she got herself out of cama to decorate their apartment for the holidays. And 4 days since she followed her sisters to downtown Magix. 3, since she had made amends with the 6 she once tormented. And 2 since the last of her sorrow seemed to wash away. Today wasn't perfect, but it was a good start.
