Yes,I am 19.Finally.And nothing much has changed except for the million phone calls I have answered since waking up and talking to the billion relatives I haven’t talked to in a year.
Yup.That’s pretty much it.*Nods with a thoughtful expression* AND YES!TELLING MY NON-EXISTENT PLANS FOR THE DAY,OFCOURSE. How could I forget?!
Now since I don’t like birthdays much,I don’t like the birthday plans much,either.But the rents!They have to have plans,however much you don’t want them to.*grumbles*
Well Whatevs.I just wanted to vent about being 19 and how “different” and “fun” it seems to be.*sighs*
Thanks for not hitting me on the head.You people sure have loads of patience, I must say.
Thank you!! ♥
Oopsie!Gotta go.Another one of those million calls from those billion relatives…
Questioning the sanity Of her own devices, Willing to explore The unknown crevices, The scary possibilities Aren’t scary,no more, The terrifying reality Doesn’t terrify,anymore. Taking chances Making advances Smile in a while At everyone in a mile; Happiness explodes, Smelling sweet like a rose. Spreading it all around Without making the unwanted sound.
In a few hours, my life is gonna take another turn.Expected,yet unwanted.A turn I have never appreciated in the last 18 years.And one I don’t think I ever would.It’s inevitable, yet dreaded.I have no particular reason why I don’t want this.No reason.Period.
It’s something everybody is excited about,at some point of time or the other.It signifies another long year spent.It signifies another 52 weeks’ worth of memories collected.It signifies another 364 days gained.It signifies growth.It signifies stuff I have no care about.It is significant.I can see the significance, don’t get me wrong.I just don’t care for it,I guess. I don’t like birthdays.I don’t like the idea of growing up.I don’t like the thought of getting close to the time when I would be totally on my own.
I don’t like my birthday.
I just don’t.But as I said,inevitable.*sighs*
So,yes,I am gonna be 19.I am gonna be another year older.I am gonna grow up.*cynic face*
The unruly hair The messed up face The cracked voice The broken nails The soiled blouse The torn pants The welting bruise The dirty hands The sweet smile The dark skin The twinkling eyes The shy trim The pretty girl The gorgeous ways The wonderful mind The golden rays…
Because they are love.♥ My parents,I mean.They are awesome people,who are the awesomest parents ever.💋 They love me,they guide me,they teach me,they scold me.:P I guess,all of these is required to mould a child into a wonderful human being.Not that I am saying I am wonderful or anything.:P But they sure are.:D
I was wondering, do all bullies feel that way? Are they all in denial? Don’t they realise that they have been bullying people without even realising?Or is it just that they do know they are bullies but are using their indifference as a cover? I have never been bullied,to be honest.But it sure is a serious issue for the teenagers around the globe.And hence,my confusion.
^ this sure gives an inkling of denial.:/
She huddled in the corner with her knees pressed tightly to her chest.He was coming.She knew he was.He always did.Every single freaking night.And she was the helpless “damsel” who could do nothing.It had been like that for the past 2 years. He came to her.She couldn’t do anything.He tortured her.He hurt her.He made her life a living hell. It had all started 2 years ago.She had no idea how it all had started.No,that’s a lie.She knew exactly how it all had started.It had been that unfortunate night at the park. That black black night.The dead silence.The gloomy,terrifying atmosphere.She had seen it all play out in front of her eyes.She had seen it all.The way she had pushed him away.The way he had pulled the gun out.Her own gasp.The pressing of the trigger,a millimeter a second.Her trying to take the gun.The ringing of the shot.The lady’s pained gasp.Her screaming.The man turning towards her.Seeing her hiding in the bushes. The shooting behind her.Her running.The arrival of police.His capturing.His crazed eyes following her as she gave her statement.The unspoken promise in them.The pain that ensued… She gasped.Someone was coming up the stairs.Moving past the bathroom.Proceeding towards her door.The shadow under her door.He was here.He was here to kill her.Like the nightmares. Just like the nightmares.Every single night he featured in her nightmares and it ended with her blood splayed on her walls. Every damn night.She opened her mouth to scream.She stopped. No.She was gonna fight back.She didn’t stop the tears from flowing down her cheeks.The lock slid open.Her door opened slowly.She held onto the hockey stick lying beside her.She raised it above her head. “Pumpkin”,she heard.He was here. Her brother. He was here.Finally.She sagged against the wall and started wailing.He would save her.He saw her huddled in the corner and rushed to her. Taking her in his arms he reassured her. He would protect her.He reassured her that that monster was in the jail.He wasn’t coming out. She was safe.She believed him. Finally. After 2 long years filled with reassurances by every other person who knew her,she finally believed that she was safe.She was going to be.Her brother was here.Her crying abated.That night she asked her brother to hold her while she slept.For the first time in two long years,she slept peacefully.She didn’t see the blood.She didn’t see the gun.She didn’t see him.She didn’t have the nightmares.
The wings spread wide Taking her to the heights The angelic smile Lighting up the sky The sound of her laughter In the wake of disaster Is the ray of hope Required to cope The beauty of it all Mesmerizes all.
I know,L-A-M-E.but I just felt like it at the moment.So,here’s this.-.-