Author: rgarner31 PM
Carrie has just saved herself from a problem that plagues many teens; depression. But now she's left with too many regrets and guilt over the things she did in her darkest moments. Will she ever be forgiven? Can she forgive herself? Reviews returned!Rated: Fiction T - English - Mystery/Drama - Words: 1,175 - Published: 05-05-12 - id: 3019884
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: Its been a really long time since I've written anything, so I'm sorry if this sucks haha. But before I jump back into writing my main story, as I'm still re-working the plot for the last time, I wanted to back into the habit of writing every day so I created a Writing Journal for a place where I can free write, and I figured that while you're waiting for my main story to be updated I might as well give you all I have. In the maintenance of the work, these are going to be unedited. Simply free written with punctuation and grammar corrections as best as I could. Like I said, this is my first day back, so if it really does suck, I'm sorry!
The Day That Changed My Life
It was on a warm May afternoon that Carrie received her first lesson in life. Dragging herself from the deep black hole of depression that months ago had engulfed the once happy person had left the teenager with a sense of emptiness. How bitterly ironic. The knot around her heart had slackened just enough for her to narrowly escape, but had not provided her with any of her former joys in life. Her paintings lay untouched in her closet collecting dust, her fingers twitched with need to bring colors and faces and texture to canvass as she had once been fortunate to manage. However strong her craving to create beauty from empty air in a stale room, her magic was gone, ravaged and ripped to shreds by the tenacity of her past. Even if she succeeded in bringing her art to life again, the hole in her heart was too ugly to be filled with such beauty. Nothing could fill the emptiness inside her, the loneliness that strangled her creativity, and the brokenness of her soul that held her mind captive and refused her sleep at night.
There were too many regrets weighing heavily on her conscious. So many mistakes that could never be undone despite her desperate attempts at mending them. Memories that grabbed hold of her thoughts and refused to let go. It was a miracle she'd slept at all the past six months, torn between her exhaustion with life and her fear of what awaited her in her subconscious mind. Even in the deepest portions of her heart, Carrie knew there was something wrong with her. Enjoying hurting others was not normal. Taking pleasure in their pain was an abomination. It went against every principle of humanity she'd ever held dear. But in those six months of torcherous depression, those principles had quickly slipped away from her. As she slowly recovered from her adventures in the nation of the damned, no amount of sleep could heal the tiredness she felt. The self-condemnation and anguishing remorse would not release their grip on her, and there was no one to blame but herself. The atrocities she had committed were of no one's making but her own.
It was this bright May day that changed her bitter outlook on her past. A few simple lines in a simple book glaring back at her, not out of reproach but out of empathy the likes of which Carrie was unfamiliar with.
"And it only becomes a mistake when one refuses to correct it. No soul is created in bad faith, but only corrupted by crimes done onto the soul that are no fault of the soul itself. Even those souls so corrupted as to steal the years from others lives are generally afflicted with more sickness than you or I will ever encounter; mental illnesses that meddle with the place of ones brain controlling their heart. No soul is created in bad faith."
Tears began to sting the corners of Carrie's eyes but she blinked furiously, refusing to allow them to fall. Her reaction was hardly appropriate. These were only words, and she'd always believed that actions spoke much louder. Yet against her better judgment and knowledge, the quote struck her hard. Thinking that she'd already done her hardest to fix all the mistakes she made, she had thought that was it. That it was about time for her to begin the healing process. Now this book was forcing her to question just how hard she'd truly tried to make amends with all those she had wrong by. Her subconscious had filled her with the dreaded belief that she was a villain, a heinous human being. How else was she supposed to react to someone telling her otherwise? Someone understanding that remorse filled her whole body every time she thought of the hurt she'd inflicted. Even worse, the joy she'd taken in the pain visible in the eyes of those unlucky enough to fall prey to her. To think that there was perhaps hope in the world, even for the ugly likes of her, and people good enough to see the truth in her own eyes. It was too much to handle with a steady heart.
During the months Carrie had spent either wallowing in self-pity or tearing others down to build herself up, it was her lack of emotion that had frightened her the most. Perhaps more accurately stated, it was how she could be at such a place where she wished to die more than ever before and no tears would come. Despite sometimes even trying to will them to come, she couldn't muster them. As if she was becoming used to feeling that way. That her heart was accustomed to being kicked around like a soccer ball and played with like a puppy. It had scared the shit out of her. Today was the first time the tears had welled inside her eyes without her willing them there in a very long time and she didn't have the strength to keep them at bay. They hit her cheeks like old friends, a bitter but welcome reunion. At least she knew her emotions had returned to her.
The salty droplets continued to caress her skin for perhaps an hour. Their presence was oddly comforting. Was their hope for her yet? Would anyone she knew be as forgiving and empathetic as the author who had written this book? Was there anyone out there who would understand? She desperately clung to the idea, as it was the only solace she had. More than anything she wished to believe there were people that amazing in her life. But she couldn't possibly expect such forgiveness if she didn't work for it, right? Thats what the author had meant when he claimed that "It only becomes a mistake when your refuse to correct it,", wasn't it? The shudder of hope wracked her body and lifted her spirits to a new altitude. A half exciting and half terrifying thought then crept into her train of thought, "What have I got to lose?".