The secret life of a victim

The images float through her head, her perfect once upon a time.

Her chin rested on her palm, her eyes fixed on nothing, her thoughts in her fantasy.

Creating the scenes of your perfect dreams is heartsick in some twisted way.

She talkes to her journal, and escapes into its blank pages,

lets her toughts bleed out of her head,

word by word, holding nothing back

She hears her friends complain and whine of their perfect lives,

she wishes just once, just once, they'd know what its like to really scream.

Because, shes been through the hurt, and felt all the pain

and had never once felt sorry for herself,

she pastes the smile on her face and hopes it all to fall in place,

but she gets it,

understands the injustice,

its only made her who she is,

strong.

After all the hardest thing in Existence is FATE.

...

Love, she wrote.

Reviews

[Kathryn]

Really beautiful piece. Great play on words from the famous phrase/series "Murder, She Wrote." Strong, interesting, well done. I like the structure of the piece too, how it almost felt like a "descension" before the final great closing line. Keep writing.

Like NightsShade said, there are a few grammatical/spelling errors; stick the piece in Word and it will fix most of them like "talkes-->talks" and "toughts-->thoughts."

[NightsShade]

I agree the closing line is great. I have to say that I can relate to the part the goes, "She hears her friends complain and of whine of their perfect lives." Sometimes friends are just to involved in their petty feelings that they forget to ask about yours.
You also had a few spelling errors, but nothing big.
Nice write!

[Hayame]

I loved your closing. "Love, she wrote". :) I wish this were a song; I can really relate to it. Maybe you can submit it to a few of your favorite singers and see if they'd be interested in putting a melody to it? :)