"Tell me you are mine" the cold, sharp, merciless blade tried to force me into submission. Into HIS submission. I am not a dead thing that anyone can own.

 "I-I am yours". Green is supposed to be my favorite color but as I look into his green merciless eyes I feel nothing but fear.

 "Good girl. Now, we don't want your dear ones hurt, do we?"
      
      ****
Where do you see yourself in three years? Two? One?

What gives you the certainty that there will be one at all?

In a world where most people dream and everything is normal, how would it feel to not know what normal is? 

  Life is never easy, and it won't ever be. It's harder when you have demons of your past and devils in your present to fight against. No one wants to lose, but how long can you keep yourself stable? Only the strong and brave survives the race. Is she strong and brave?

Triggers are present.

Submission To His Desires

Sometimes I feel things that are not possible to exist or feel, see things that are not there, hear words that have not been spoken. These hallucinations, these mind riveting moments, make me further believe that something is truly wrong. I am being pushed into an empty space of a puzzle that I just don’t fit into. I am the wrong piece of the picture. 


This feeling goes on for several days. The interval between the episodes are almost non existent, blended into time by a stubborn finger, tainted in all dark. Perhaps, only when I am asleep, do I feel some kind of peace and solace from this painful heaviness that is wound around my head like a tight band. At times, it worsens as it transforms into an itch inside my head that I can’t reach to satiate. 


Bonus Chapter