Scarred Past

She sat cross-legged on the floor, the open journal in front of her revealing how she truly felt. She stared at the pages of words which seemed to dance before her, taunting her, telling her she would never be good enough. She let out a scream, and threw the journal against the wall. It rebounded, falling back in almost exactly the same spot, but opening on a different page. She glanced down at the words. They were almost exactly identical to what she had just written, despite being put down on paper months before.

"Wish I was too dead to cry,
My self-affliction fades,
Stones to throw at my creator,
Masochists to which I cater.

You don't need to bother; I don't need to be,
I'll keep slipping farther,
But once I hold on, I won't let go 'til it bleeds."

For so long, she had felt exactly the same. Dead inside. Existing purely for the pain, and for the music. She wanted to get up and dance, to hurl herself around to the heavy rock beats which blasted loudly from the stereo. But she didn't have the energy. So she simply sat.

"Wish I was too dead to care,
If indeed I cared at all,
Never had a voice to protest,
So you fed me shit to digest,
I wish I had a reason; my flaws are open season,
For this, I gave up trying,
One good turn deserves my dying."

The pages were bloodstained in several places. Some of it fresh, some of it old, turning brown. She looked at her arms, at the little criss-crossed patterns which travelled up them. They hurt, but not as much as her heart and soul did. There was so much pain in her past that she couldn't let go of. She knew that she needed to, that her life would never improve if she didn't. But there were some things which were just too hard to face. It was easier to keep on hiding, keep on hurting.

"You don't need to bother; I don't need to be,
I'll keep slipping farther,
But once I hold on, I won't let go 'til it bleeds.

Wish I'd died instead of lived,
A zombie hides my face,
Shell forgotten with it's memories,
Diaries left with cryptic entries."

She wanted to die, but she couldn't go through with killing herself. Somewhere inside her, was a nagging feeling that somehow, someday things might get better. Was it worth holding on, just for that hope? That wasn't the real question at hand, she decided. The real question she needed to ask was, was it worth ending things and wasting her life when there was still so much more she would be able to accomplish in the future... if she could only turn her back on the past.

"And you don't need to bother; I don't need to be,
I'll keep slipping farther,
But once I hold on, I won't let go 'til it bleeds.

You don't need to bother; I don't need to be,
I'll keep slipping farther,
But once I hold on... I'll never live down my deceit."

******

The lyrics in this songfic are taken from "Bother" by Stonesour.