Status: The story is not supposed to end here. I wrote this five years ago and I am now 17; quite unmotivated to pick up writing it again, but we will see. hold on!
Hearts Recycled But Never Saved
Everyone's heart doesn't beat the same
Like apathetic, I browsed through the photos. I couldn't understand what I really saw, my mind was too absent. Faces, people, human beings that I couldn't remember. They were all liars, hypocrites, and so full of shit.
Hearts recycled but never saved, the scrabbles on a photo of me said. It was the only photo of me I had where I actually looked happy. It was the day Brad went to the hospital. I was hoping he would die. Perhaps it was proof for how much hatred I was carrying.
Home is where your heart is! mom's script said on the back of a family picture. I never liked the new version of my family. I never needed Brad. I never needed a father figure. I'd consider myself my own hero. I had immediately known that I wasn't meant for faking the perfect family with them.
Everyone's heart doesn't beat the same, I had written and underlined underneath mom's note.
Mom and Brad looked glad and satisfied, mom even had a flower in her hair. It was taken sometime in the last of her healthy days. Brad looked fawning, yet glad. I and my sister sat on chairs in front of them, I must have been around only eight years old. It was obvious from far distance, that I was different. My eyes told another story than mom and Brad made our backgrounds seem to be.
A quick flashback went through my head. Those eyes! Those eyes glistening with tears that I had caused. Nobody else would ever hurt her like I did.
I pulled up the only picture of the love that I never had from my pocket. I put it underneath the loose board, and closed it. With the familiar empty feeling inside, I made a new decision. Unlike all the other things I had ever promised myself; I would keep this. I would never again stare into such an intense green.
Hearts recycled but never saved, the scrabbles on a photo of me said. It was the only photo of me I had where I actually looked happy. It was the day Brad went to the hospital. I was hoping he would die. Perhaps it was proof for how much hatred I was carrying.
Home is where your heart is! mom's script said on the back of a family picture. I never liked the new version of my family. I never needed Brad. I never needed a father figure. I'd consider myself my own hero. I had immediately known that I wasn't meant for faking the perfect family with them.
Everyone's heart doesn't beat the same, I had written and underlined underneath mom's note.
Mom and Brad looked glad and satisfied, mom even had a flower in her hair. It was taken sometime in the last of her healthy days. Brad looked fawning, yet glad. I and my sister sat on chairs in front of them, I must have been around only eight years old. It was obvious from far distance, that I was different. My eyes told another story than mom and Brad made our backgrounds seem to be.
A quick flashback went through my head. Those eyes! Those eyes glistening with tears that I had caused. Nobody else would ever hurt her like I did.
I pulled up the only picture of the love that I never had from my pocket. I put it underneath the loose board, and closed it. With the familiar empty feeling inside, I made a new decision. Unlike all the other things I had ever promised myself; I would keep this. I would never again stare into such an intense green.