I was actually unsure if I should load this story onto the site. With those people who ignore warnings and then flame me about it when it’s right there in the warning. And I always end up with those on a bad day. As is life. So you MUST READ THE WARNING. I will not take responsibility for consequences for ignoring the warning. If blood frightens you, don’t even bother reading the next paragraph.

Warning: This is a short story about a victim of Sodomy. I did not intend for this story to be a glorification of the act, but just as small glimpse into the masked life of some teenagers in many different aspects throughout the story. There is no happiness whatsoever in this story. Pain, violence, language (derogatory) and suicide are all here, thus the rating. I put together my most painful experiences into this story. If you read some of my poems, you will hopefully understand to some extent what sort of pain. Now if these warning have not deterred you, read on.

Broken Wings of an Angel

“The world is not thy friend, nor the world’s law:

The world affords no law to make thee rich;

Then be not poor, but break it…”

(Act 5, Scene 2, Lines 72-73. Romeo and Juliet)

Death. A beautiful word to the ears and mind to a woman… no, to a girl who seeks love and freedom in a world of darkness. For a girl who has known the touch of dark, for a girl who craves the dark, Death is only another doorway to divulge deeper into the darkened soul of a seventeen year old. A tainted soul, a jaded soul… a lost soul, many will call her soul different things. But what was a girl to do when all she knows is blood, sex, dark, lust, fear, tears, anger and hate.

Blood. Red, hot and thick. If someone whispered that into my ears while my eyes were shut and my nervous system was shut down, I probably would have smirked at a completely different image. Yet, my eyes were open and my nervous was working over-time. It was hot…it felt thick… and it looked red.

Sex. How did I get myself in this position? Who knows… one day I woke up and I was drawn to the touch and release of the action. Making love, fucking, reproducing, humping and whatever words associate with the act of it would never explain this… this exercise I was caught up in… only one word could describe the act, but it is not a feeling, a verb or an adjective. A mere noun created to describe the minimum of the act. Sodomy. Disgust, I know… I can picture the happy world out there cringing at the word. But that is what I know.

Dark. It’s always dark. Morning, noon, afternoon, night… it’s always dark in my life. I’ve seen the sun, I’ve even felt it… but the light never penetrates enough to reach my darkened soul…my darkened life. It’s almost amusing to believe that maybe I am a vampire. Almost.

Lust. Often mistaken for love, I suppose. But for me, love is just a word that is in my vocabulary, but nothing that I have experienced. Lust on the other hand… I experience it every day, every night… in my dreams and in my reality. It’s a very exciting thing to feel. Everything else is forgotten and the body takes over, craving to release the growing tension.

Fear. A funny thing fear. It can pounce on you unexpectedly and cling on forever. In the brief moments of joy, there is still fear holding on making its presence felt. Fear… it’s possessive; it never really leaves you alone.

Tears. The only way for me to release my soul. But I haven’t cried in a while. My heart has become hardened and there’s an impenetrable wall surrounding it. But sometimes I see tears in the eyes of passerbys, watching me… but they are only tears…water, salt and the bitter-sweet memory of a day way back in life no one remembers.

Anger. Anger is my friend; it’s what keeps me alive. My survival tool. The layer of the wall surrounding my heart.

Hate. I don’t know what love is. I don’t know what hate is. But it’s probably that thing lurking deep inside me; the darkness that covers my eyes… it’s probably another layer to my wall.