Until it ends, there is no end

The sound of the clock echoed in the huge room. I stared up at it, at its pendulum swinging side to side. Time seemed to be dragging on. The room was bare, with only a large windowpane to look out of. Outside it, there was a upstanding diametric world. A world full of happiness and joy. besides in here, in this house, the world was a completely different place. It was a cruel world; it was a world without love.

I hugged my knees juxtaposed to my chest, and rested my chin on top. It was only a effect of time before the sunbathe was going to set, only a matter of time before darkness reached every landmark of my life. I have been sitting here all day, continually staring out of the window at the life I wanted, at the life that did not want me. Clouds c all overed the sun now and again, disrupting the rays of light, as though trying to prevent either chance of hope reaching me. I was being consumed by the dullness of the room, drowning in the murky green. The rays of light were my lifelines, reaching in to pull me out, but I could not grasp them.

I walked over to the mirror and saw a reflection of myself. It angered me. why did I have to be so different?



why did I have to be me? I hated myself and I hated the reflection that stared back at me day in and day out. I hated it so much that I hadnt realised that shards of glass lay scattered on the traumatize and that blood was trickling from my hand. I curled into a ball on the floor, and wept as I rocked back and forth.

I remember my grandmother relation me...

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