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Sky Is Womb & She's the Moon

Diary of Amina Bella - Welcome to My World.

Rain.
I feel tiny droplets softly tapping at my window, almost calling my name. The droplets collect each other and turn into bloated versions of themselves, until the weight eventually drags them down my window, leaving only streaks of their short-lived lives.

I like the rain. Its quiet enough to sooth me, but loud enough to clear my head of any and all thoughts that inhabited it.

I feel my mind go blank, and I cherish the silence. I hold the pieces of quiet close to me, like a snowy blanket covering a road. Oh, how I love the peace. Everything is still. Everything is warm. Everything is...normal.

I focus my thoughts on the tiny raindrops, their pitter-patter like a marching band in my head. I let them take over, and soon, the static noises and rampant voices cease. Emotions that were never really mine go away, running as if I had set them on fire. Everything becomes a low, murmuring hum. To low to hear. To insignificant to care about.

The life of an Empath is hard. Especially when you cant distinguish your own feelings from someone else's. But I can control it, and as of late, it is not a big a burden as I once thought.

Some days are harder than others of course. Being in large groups of people is still difficult. But my shields are strong enough that I can handle it for a few hours. But even so, great pain or anger can still seep through. Making me cringe, making the hairs on my arms stand on end. Making me angry, because I feel it. Making me sad, because I feel it. The feeling will not leave the moment I leave the venue. It will haunt me for the rest of the day. A sick and twisted memento from the person that gave it to me. A gift and a curse.

***

Like most people like me, I have an unhealthy desire to help others. Hence my job with the "blood mobile" as I so fondly refer to it.

Yes. I am one of those annoying people who stand outside your favorite restaurant/store and try to guilt you into donating blood.

But I enjoy my job. And my "abilities" attract people to me. Rarely will I get a "no" as an answer. Rarely.

As usual, I rise from my bed. I bid farewell to the raindrops that kept me company and prepare myself for work.

I stare at myself in my bathroom mirror and frown. The eye bags are far too evident for my taste. I'm too pale.

Not that im not attractive. I just happen to be very critical of myself, is all.

I grab my jet-black hair and haphazardly comb through it with my fingers, and tie it in a messy side ponytail. I wash my face and stare at myself once more. My green eyes stare back at me. A sad, tired version of themselves.

I barely slept the night before. An encounter with an old woman at work ruined my night. She came in with a smiling face; no one thought anything of her. But the hurt and pain rushed through me like an earthquake. Shaking the very fiber of my being. Her pain ripped me in two. I looked at her, shocked. I knew her smiles and bright eyes were nothing but a ruse. The death of her husband was killing her. And now I took her pain into me. Carving out a special place for her, a little hole where a part of her sadness will always remain; an addition to my stained glass piece of art, made of pain, anger, and envy.

My eyes had watered as I punctured her skin with the needle and prepared her little bag that would soon be filled with her blood.

I looked lovingly at her. I held her hand tightly and before leaving I spoke softly to her and said "I am truly, truly sorry for your loss".

I remember her surprised face as I walked out of the donation trailer.

***
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this is the first story i write on here. just a little bit about our main character, Amina Bella. next chapter will be out soon. this one was a wee taste. <3

i hoped you guys liked it. please comment! i LOVE feed back, and id like to know what you guys think!!!!

loves and kisses!!!!