February 14, 2018 at 4:00 pm #23139TigerMamaParticipant
Here is a short story I wrote that expresses my painful feelings. I hope anyone reading this, it puts words to your pain. Life is so hard and painful and it’s so much worse when we walk alone. Pain and suffering is inevitable in this world, but that doesn’t mean that we are to feel these things alone, we all need someone who can sit beside us and anchor us, give us something to hold onto too. Maybe by holding onto each other, we can journey on and find our way through the maze of life. Hugs!
Stories within stories, nightmares within nightmares
She dances upon the marble floor, as if there was music playing, her movements are fluid as water, it tells a story of tragedy. Then the stone cold floor beneath her shatters and with a look of horror she begins to fall, as a soundless scream leaves her mouth and her hand reaches out to grab empty air.
As they pass the potted plant to each other, it slips and as if time slows, it falls, falls, falls, smashing into the ground, the clay pot around the roots shatters on impact and the roots snap like a dry twig.
A girl filled with melancholy sits with her knees pulled close to her chin, the cold stone floor beneath her is like ice, and the walls rise from the darkness and begin to surrounded her, tears the color of black ink streak down her cheeks.
While a storm rages in a ocean foaming with waves hitting her over and over again, she gasps for a breath, only for her lungs to be filled with salt water, she is being pulled down, down, down, into the unforgiving sea, it consumes her. As she sinks into the depth, she remembers all that was lost and all that could never be had, she closes her eyes as her blood turns to ice within her veins.
She frantically runs down the hallway, her feet pounding upon the blood red rug, looking to her left and right, doors on both sides and they go on for what seems like forever, she sees a door ahead of her and it’s open, but just as she gets within inches of it, it slams in her face. Rage rises within her and she clenches her fists and beats the door, as if to break it down, but she is only left with bloodied and bruised hands. Then she hears the sound of a door opening and she turns and breaks into a run. Slam! Goes another door, and another opens. Slam, Slam, Slam, Slam! She loses count of all the doors she has tried, her desperateness only increases as the number of failures become greater and greater. She is caught between the feelings of longing for death and longing for a way out.
In a land without rain and burning rays of light, dust clings to her skin and clothes, hot sand beneath her feet and miles away from her, massive rocks rise from the sea of yellow. As the rage builds within her, and her head is throw back as a scream breaks free from her throat, it’s sound echoing into the vast emptiness.** She turns and faces the nearest giant rock, she raises her hand out to it and then quickly closes her hand, and with that action, there is an explosion as it shatters into billions of pieces and turns into dust. And with that, she destroys everyone of them, till she is only surrounded by nothing. Then she uses her hands to make the sea of sand rise and fall like waves, rising, crashing, rising, crashing, rising, crashing. When the suns retreats and the moon takes her place in the hopeless sky, the heat of the day is replaced by the icy cold of night. She is exhausted, falls to the cooling sand, her eyes glaze over and with a shuddering breath that is her last, the light within her leaves and her body is forever preserved by this cruel land.
She stands on the edge of the cliff, the moon is full. She covers her ears with her hands and screams into the void, she knows it’s pointless for no one is listening. She could scream till her throat burned and she coughed up blood and still no one would hear and come. She looks down the edges and sees all the sharp rocks below and the sea that is crashing against them. She can feel within every fibre of her body, the call of death, it’s darkness whispers in her ears to jump and all will be at peace. She longs for rest, and only the dead have rest. As she feels the wind and the ground rising to meet her, it all becomes black and she sees a girl dancing upon a marble stone floor, as that girl falls, then it becomes dark again, then she sees the potted plant fall, and this continues till she finds herself in a dark room, she reaches out and feels the walls and as she explores, she realizes that she is trapped in a box without windows and without a door. She is too weak to fight anymore, so she collapses to the floor and curls into a ball, too numb to weep, too exhausted to rage. Her whole body trembles, shaking as if she was freezing, even know the room is warm. Then a kind voice calls to her, and she raises her face to look and sees a person of caring, while every part of her wants to reach out and clasp the outstretched hand, she moves not, for she has been tempted like this before and she can’t bear the thought of this being another con. She buries her face into her knees and blocks out the soothing voice, then the tears begin to flow, the aching of her heart is felt and it feels like the world is spinning and will never stop. And she passes out, her body becomes limp and she lays there, a girl without a life. End(Written Feb 11 2018)
(**edited for potentially triggering content)
February 14, 2018 at 4:59 pm #23145YouthspaceModerator
This is an amazing piece of work. It shows your emotional struggles with such depth and reality…which is challenging! Emotions are slippery and don’t necessarily like to fit into tidy words very easily. Sometimes even when we’re awake, emotions can make reality feel like a dream (or nightmare), and I think you captured that idea here.
We did edit out just one line that we thought might be a possible trigger for people who self-harm. It didn’t feel great editing anything out of this post as it’s clearly a creative work of art as much as it is an expression of your personal story. If you have any questions about why we did an edit, please feel free to touch base with us through our email, [email protected]. Your story does represent some very true aspects of struggling with the thought of death as a relief, and with the devastation of feeling utterly alone with emotions that are so enormous. Thank you for posting it here for others to read. <3
You're so right that people don't have to feel those things alone, and it IS beautiful when we have someone who can anchor us. We hope that youthspace can be a place of anchoring, and of course we invite you to use the live chat as well when you want to unburden some of the heavy emotions.
-The Youthspace Team
February 18, 2018 at 6:17 pm #23158TigerMamaParticipant
Thank you, I find writing really helps me. 🙂 I totally understand, I was wondering if there might be possible trigger but I wasn’t sure, it didn’t effect the flow of the story at all by removing it. Could you email me possible trigger words so that when I post in the future I know what to change or edit out. Thanks! 🙂
February 18, 2018 at 6:28 pm #23166
- The forum ‘Difficult Feelings and Emotions’ is closed to new topics and replies.