trying to be pure

It was raining. It was 5 am. The raindrops kind of felt like thorns falling on her skin. He was just coming over to smoke with her. Then everything went blurry.

And then it was like one of those dreams, where you try to say something, you try to scream, but the words just don’t come out. Except the words did come out, they were just trapped underneath his hand. Underneath his hand that was over her mouth. Her mouth, attached to her body, which was trapped under his. She just stared at the ceiling of the garage. And kept looking at it, wishing that it would cave in. And the concrete floor was so cold. She just wanted to die….  She was trying as hard as she could to escape. But her limbs were paralyzed. She doesn’t remember when he left. Sometimes, it feels like he’s still lurking around. Like his he’s still there suffocating her. She does remember crying until morning though, when the sun seemed so cruel to have still come up that day. When she heard her dad coming to his car to leave for work, she got dressed and ran to her window. She had to break the screen to climb in. and then she fell onto her bed. And fell into sleep. And she’s pretty much been sleeping forever since. She’s pretty much been trapped in one of those dreams forever since. One of those dreams  where you try to say something, you try to scream; but the words just don’t come out.

Reviews

[The Winter Grey]

This is an exceptional piece with strong imagery. Little twists and flourishes of language really helped to nail the pained message of this story home. I'm also a fan of using a line at the beginning and end of a poem or story, it makes it stick with you. Overall, I really liked it. Keep up the good work :)