Happy Hump day! It's Writing Wednesday and I'll be presenting a short story.
I made this from my own creativity and imagination. This is a fictional story.
I plan on being an author when I become an adult so feedback is greatly appreciated.
Enjoy!
*warning: It's pretty dark and edgy*
Death can really change a person. Death is unpredictable. The sad thing is death come to those who don't ask for it. My boyfriend Tyler, he saw death. Death had come and possessed his father.
He made him drag his wife and daughter out of the comfort of their bed, and then took him to Tyler's room and dragged him out of his bed. Again death is unpredictable. To this day no one knows why death took his parents and sister. Maybe it was their time to go. At least that's what everyone told him.
Tyler was forced to live with his aunt, uncle, and his older cousin Kyle. Ever since the death of his family, he changed for the worst. Before he was sweet and caring, he was the perfect boyfriend. Death changed him.
At first, I thought the reason for the personality changed was because of grief, but the longer he remained in that state, the more I thought that this wasn't a phase. The more I realized it wasn't normal. I wanted to leave, but I couldn't leave because I cared about my family.
I cared about AJ.
I remember as the days passed the colder I became. I grew distant from my family and friends. I smiled less and less until a permanent frown found its way to my face. Soon I became bitter and angry, blaming them when really it was my own fault.
There were moments I had an opening.
A chance to leave.
But I didn't take it.
I suffered for years until one day Tyler didn't want me anymore. I was boring him he says as he shoved me out in the pouring rain and slammed the door in my face. I walked in the rain, my clothes drenched. I walked like a zombie back home, staring blankly in the distant.
I should have been happy, glad that it's over. The nightmare of me dealing with the pain, the neglect, the abuse, the constant reminder that I was nothing.
Then I realized that I was damaged. Every day I wanted his touch. I miss him. The old him, but he's never coming back. I had to accept it.
I thought it was over, but it wasn't over. The first two months were...okay. They were better than before, but I still felt empty. I had distanced myself from my family so much that they stopped trying to get me back to my old self. I had spent those two months staying in my room sleeping, only going out to go to school where I had to see him for eight hours. Of course, he doesn't acknowledge my existence. Which surprisingly hurts. A lot.
Then it started. The death threats, the horrible messages saying he wants me back. But I don't want to go back.
I don't know what to do anymore. I want to be rid of all the pain, but it's all still there, killing me inside. I want to leave and never come back. The scars will never go away, so I have to go.
But I can't.
If I go then he goes.
I don't want him to go.
See you on Sunday!
