| FreeI said it once I'll say it twice, and I'll say it a million and two times. . . I AM NOT SUICIDAL. This is a story, it's a writing style, and it is not to promote suicide. Live, if not for yourself, for the sake of laughing. (I know tha tmade no sense, you don't need t otell me) She wondered what it would be like to be free. Completely free. Not the freedom that came with chains and ropes and shackles and cages to hold her down. She looked at the knife in her hand, wondering if it would cut through the chains and ropes and shackles and cages to free her. The blade caught the light spilling through the opened window. No, that wouldn’t do. It’s too cheerful. She walked over and with a swoop, heavy curtains fell over them. She sat down with her life in her hands. Finally she sighed. Finally she had the control of who she was and how she was going to be. The power had just flown out of her mother and father’s hand and it was exhilarating. She wondered for a split second what it would be like. Would it hurt? She stopped wondering. No, she had gotten this far, wondering won’t do her any good. She looked at the reflection across the room. Lifting her hand and waving it, she tested to see if it were really her. Physically, it was her true enough. The hair, the eyes, the lips. . . No, no it wasn’t her. Where was the pain? The contradiction? The suffocation? Where was all the rest of her? It wasn’t there and it made her mad. Fuck the world. . . She sat down. . . No, she had already sat down, she realized. She was losing control already. No, she fought, she wouldn’t lose control again. She looked at her key, its blade sharp yet dull in the lack of lighting. She took a breath and let it all out as the red spilt out. . . She’s free. Don't forget to sign my GuestBook and Join my Mailing List! thanx!!
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