Exchanging Scars

1//pilot

Hope

Hope isn't a thing or an action. It's a feeling our brain gives us when reality seems to hard. A feeling it gives us when we lust for more. When you say 'I don't believe you' , there is still hope left somewhere in the back of your mind. When you say 'we're done!' you still hold on to that little hope back there, hoping they'll explain it, or apologize, or leave you alone.

Trust

Trust isn't a feeling your mind creates. It's a discription of an action. It describes the action when you put something of you in the hands of someone else. Some put their phone in your hands, some trust you with an essay but most people out there, put their heart in your hands.

Betrayal

When you trust somebody, when you put something in their hands and they simply just drop it. That's betrayal. Hurts like a bitch. Sometimes we don't even know that they betrayed us. We just feel disappointed or mad. Sometimes even sad or exhausted. But when our hearts are on the line, oh honey, you'll feel the betrayal. It can leave a scratch that will need time to heal. Or it will leave a scar. In both situations you search comfort. But without knowing, you lay your heart right back into that person's hands you search comfort in. And our circle has started again.

I didn't. When a normal person would search comfort, I took my heart and put it behind walls higher than the sky. I simply just stopped the circle. No hope meant no trust, which means no. betrayal.

I wasn't always like this. It was because of you. I put my heart in your hands and what did you do?

You spit on it.

You gave it to him and watched while he dropped my heart, picked it up just to be dropped again.

You cut pieces out of it, made it bleed.

You didn't feel sorry, you laughed.

You enjoyed it.

And the only question I'm asking is why? Why did you do that? Why did you smile? Why didn't you stop? Why didn't you protect me like you promised? Why did you let him to that to me? Why?

Why did you break me, mother?

BIEP BIEP BIEP

The sound of my alarm went of and I jumped out of my bed. Bad move. I hiss in pain, remembering last night's events. I could feel almost every nerve in my body screaming for five more minutes of rest.My legs felt like jelly. Probably from too less sleep and too less food. Don't think I'm a girl who doesn't have an appetite, I love food. Scratch that, food loves me and I love food.

It's a complicated relationship.

My stepdad wasn't the best. But I couldn't complain. He made sure I got a roof above my head and had a meal every now and then. Well, sometimes.

Okay way too less, but that doesn't matter.

I wasn't dumb, I knew the way my mom and her boyfriend treated me wasn't right. But sometimes it's just easier to talk and think about it in a casual way.

Thinking about it too hard would cause dark thoughts to reappear. I would find myself back into the darkest place of my mind and I promised myself to never go back there again.

Ever.

Life's a bitch sometimes, but you just need to learn how to deal with it. Drawing has always been the best solution for me to express my feelings. I don't have good pencils and paper so I have to be creative with supplies. I took a mental note to look for something in the trash on my way back home. How longer the way back, how further away the daily confrontation with my parents.