ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
Once a monster, always a monster.
Thats what I thought when I learnt that my sister had been murdered. When I walked into the room to find her bloody, broken body, and watched as it was transformed to that pale dead corpse being lowered into the ground, I knew a human had done this. That it wasnt an accident. Only a human was capable of such cruelty and hatred. It used to keep me up at nights, wondering what I would do without her in my life, wondering what was worse; living with the knowledge of how she had died or living at all.
Living was impossible. I couldn't flip through the TV without seeing her favourite shows, or eat my dinner without imagining my sister arguing her way out of eating brocilli. The mourning was long, never-ending, a pathway of sadness. Along that road, the grief would sometimes hit me out of nowhere, doubling me over, making sobs rack my body. How could somebody do that to her? How could anyone do that to a little girl so filled with light and love, filled with so much joy and innocence? How could they kill her so brutally? I wake up in the mornings, roused by the sounds of her screams that must have meant nothing to her killer, because if it did, he wouldnt have killed her. Not like that.
I was almost happy when I found out the man had been caught. Relived that no other little girls or boys would be hurt. But I was somewhat mad, at myself, that I didnt find him first When I saw him, that first day at court- a 40 year old pedo who was accused with the abductions of four other young girls around the country- I remember how angry I was then. Tears were coming down my eyes, but not of sadness anymore, but of rage. Fury boiled in my gut, a fury that made me want to scream and shout all at once, that made me want to rip the eyes out of his sockets, to inflict every twinge of pain I had felt for everything he had ever done.
But I couldn't. How could I? No matter how angry I was, I would never try something like this. At least, not here. I had my chance to find him and kill him. The police got to him before I had even started looking. Just like he got to my sister before I could save her. That was the worst part, I found. When you love someone, you make an oath to protect them, no matter what. No matter how annoyed you are at them or the danger, its second instinct to protect someone so vulnerable. And I failed. I didn't save my sister, and she didnt get to see me before she died. I had promised to love and protect her. And I had failed.
Once a monster, always a monster.
So does that make me a monster, too?
Thats what I thought when I learnt that my sister had been murdered. When I walked into the room to find her bloody, broken body, and watched as it was transformed to that pale dead corpse being lowered into the ground, I knew a human had done this. That it wasnt an accident. Only a human was capable of such cruelty and hatred. It used to keep me up at nights, wondering what I would do without her in my life, wondering what was worse; living with the knowledge of how she had died or living at all.
Living was impossible. I couldn't flip through the TV without seeing her favourite shows, or eat my dinner without imagining my sister arguing her way out of eating brocilli. The mourning was long, never-ending, a pathway of sadness. Along that road, the grief would sometimes hit me out of nowhere, doubling me over, making sobs rack my body. How could somebody do that to her? How could anyone do that to a little girl so filled with light and love, filled with so much joy and innocence? How could they kill her so brutally? I wake up in the mornings, roused by the sounds of her screams that must have meant nothing to her killer, because if it did, he wouldnt have killed her. Not like that.
I was almost happy when I found out the man had been caught. Relived that no other little girls or boys would be hurt. But I was somewhat mad, at myself, that I didnt find him first When I saw him, that first day at court- a 40 year old pedo who was accused with the abductions of four other young girls around the country- I remember how angry I was then. Tears were coming down my eyes, but not of sadness anymore, but of rage. Fury boiled in my gut, a fury that made me want to scream and shout all at once, that made me want to rip the eyes out of his sockets, to inflict every twinge of pain I had felt for everything he had ever done.
But I couldn't. How could I? No matter how angry I was, I would never try something like this. At least, not here. I had my chance to find him and kill him. The police got to him before I had even started looking. Just like he got to my sister before I could save her. That was the worst part, I found. When you love someone, you make an oath to protect them, no matter what. No matter how annoyed you are at them or the danger, its second instinct to protect someone so vulnerable. And I failed. I didn't save my sister, and she didnt get to see me before she died. I had promised to love and protect her. And I had failed.
Once a monster, always a monster.
So does that make me a monster, too?
Literature
Monster inside my head
I have a monster in my head
and it wants to come out
You've fed it, it has grown
from your actions did it sprout
I try to hold it back
but it's so utterly mad
I can't hold it back
it's the worst I've had
Stronger and stronger
It breaks apart my walls
I can't hold it back
My final barrier falls
It fights, it kicks
it bites, now you fall
You've had it coming
for yet another call
You push me around
now you will get it back
run away if you can
it's your skull I'll crack
This monster inside
I will no longer hide
it has destroyed its cage
you will feel all my rage
Literature
Monster in the Basement
The being under the basement cries at night
calling out for one simple friend that it cannot have
family above ignores what it cannot see
except the little boy who hears the screams in dark hours.
Solitary hours after dusk, before dawn
child of man travels down to see the beast that wept
bringing offerings of peace, words of comfort
friendship built on mutual loneliness was molded.
Talks late at night, stars overhead burning light
exciting tales of adventures to be had
but thoughts were simply just thoughts, never to happen together
and tales in the dark were simply that, tales.
Yet the child didn’t know the importance of secrets
fa
Literature
Broken Home.
They say to be strong and to never fall,
But they have never been through anything at all,
They sit in their big houses and act like they know what it's like,
My father hits me everyday and my mother does absolutely nothing,
I'm like a bird with a broken wing,
Caught in an endless circle of pain,
Sure I've thought about ending it all a few times,
But that's never the way to go,
I need to keep my head up and never fall,
Keep fighting and rise above it all,
My eyes are constantly pouring out tears,
I am living what some people would call their worst fear,
In a broken home I will be,
Until I can finally be set free.
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
Have you ever had that dream? When someone you love is in trouble, and you want to do everything to protect them? But then reality hits you in the face and you realize, its either them or you, either them or you. I had that dream. A looked out a window and three huge guys had surronded my sister. I charged out of the house and sent my sister to my neighbors and started screaming, with no concerns for my own saftey. One of the men grabbed a knife. I don;t know how, but another knife was in my hand, too. I tried to stab him but he raised his arm to stab me. and I woke up.
I love my sister. Shbe is a pain in my ass, yes, but I'll do anything to protect her. Whenever someone hurts her, I want to hurt them. So here's a little more about that topic.
I love my sister. Shbe is a pain in my ass, yes, but I'll do anything to protect her. Whenever someone hurts her, I want to hurt them. So here's a little more about that topic.
© 2011 - 2024 Breatheforlife
Comments8
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
ik know exactly what u mean