The crimson blood always seems to mock me. Nausea rose in my throat as I remembered each time I was left with only stains of blood, clear reminders of the emptiness of dreams. Each time I cursed this broken body incapable, it seemed, of giving, only skilled in letting go. Sometimes I wish I could let go of this part of me, this place inside that
(
Read more... )
Comments 64
I cried at the end, because there was so much hope, and everything was going to be so perfect.
In my heart, I'm hoping there was one survivor, or rather two!
Good luck!
Reply
I thought of you some when I was writing this, how you hope to have kids one day. I do hope your dreams come true.
Thinking of you...
Reply
Reply
Thanks so much for reading and commenting!:)
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
A lot of fun, Java_fiend is a great writing partner to work with!:)
Reply
Reply
Thanks for reading! Sorry to make you sad:(
Reply
Leave a comment