PART I
Noises...footsteps...coming closer..louder...voices...lights...scrambling movements coming from the door a strange and somehow familiar voice I know all too well and fear-the voice of my hurtful past. I struggle to picture a good memory of him to block out all the pain but hurt always washes over me...exactly how everything happened-every little detail and sound. Every single minute of life. Gunshots penetrated my thoughts-the memories were stuck in my head forever. I turned over in my sleep and silently thrashed the covers around the bed every once in a while sliding off and quickly getting up not wanting my mom to hear.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Share your thoughts!