Bleeding Heart - My personal horror

Bleeding Heart - My personal horror

Author:Misty Lilith Blake

Others | Finished

Introduction
This is not an easy story for me to tell. In fact, I think it may be the hardest thing I've ever done, second only to living through it. This book is not for the faint of heart, it's not a story based on imagination or a story about what I would have liked my life to be like. No, this is MY story, the life that I have lived so far. This is the world that made me who I am; moulded me and eventually broke me. I will live with this past until the end of my days. Even as I write this, I am not sure if I will have the strength required of me to finish it. I know that writing this book means that I have to relive the past, a past that I have spent ten years trying to outrun and forget.
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Chapter

  This is not an easy story for me to tell.

  In fact, I think it may be the hardest thing I've ever done, second only to living through it.

  This book is not for the faint of heart, it's not a story based on imagination or a story about what I would have liked my life to be like.

  No, this is MY story, the life that I have lived so far. This is the world that made me who I am; moulded me and in many ways broke me. I will live with this past until the end of my days.

  Even as I write this, I am not sure if I will have the strength required of me to finish it. I know that writing this book means that I have to relive the past, a past that I have spent more than ten years trying to outrun and forget.

  If you happen to have this book in your hands then it means that I managed to finish it. Coo dose to me for that!

  So here it is, in all its ugly truth, my happy horror of a life....

  My life wasn't always the horror story that I now know it to be. I used to be happy once, long ago. It seems like a life time since happiness and innocence were all I knew.

  I often wonder what my younger self would say if she knew what was in store for her. Would she set aside her childhood dreams of a perfect future or would she cling to them harder than before?

  Would she better appreciate the bliss that she lived in or would she squander her time with worries of what is yet to come?

  I can't picture that happy, precious girl as me. Not anymore. Now, she seems like a whole other person. What I wouldn't give to be that girl again! The girl whose biggest issue was that one of her older brothers, whom she worshiped, was being mean to her. The girl who had friends and who looked upon the world with awe and wonder, that girl who had big dreams for her future, who could picture in her mind's eye what her prince looked like and who's worst nightmares were nothing more than mere dreams. The girl who dreamed of a white wedding, a happy marriage and perfect family life, the girl who had everything planned out in her head, from her dream job to how she would choose to die.

  Never once did it occur to her that life wouldn't go as she had planned it to.

  The person that I am now is nothing like that girl. She doesn't bother with dreams and delusions, she has seen the world for what it truly is: dark and twisted. She knows that things hardly ever go as planned, she knows that the world is filled with messed up people who will hurt and destroy every bit of good they see. She is not an optimist. She no longer worries about what tomorrow will bring because tomorrow will lightly be far worse than today, and if by some chance it isn't then, well, great.

  The person I am today entered this world, not as a new born babe, but as a fifteen year old girl. I did not enter the world by birth like most but rather through the pain and suffering that is death. The entire world that I knew disappeared that day and I was dropped into a new one. One where smiles and laughs are used to distract others from looking to closely at the mask I wear and in which most things hold absolutely no meaning anymore.

  September 9th 2007. That's the night that I was dropped into the nightmare that most would call life.

  I still know the fear and dread that seeped into my bones like ice that night.