Void Descriptive Writing

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My frail fingers graze the tender bruises trailing down my thighs as I try to ignore the constant throbbing in my skull. I stand timidly in front of a fragile, pale girl. Her limbs are black and blue twigs, shaking with desperation. She bears smoky grey eyes glossy with fear and raven locks that mimic her exasperation. I raise my right hand, barely making a fist but trembling at the attempt. My already wounded knuckles strikes the glass reflection and it shatters. The shards of glass collapsing to the tiles below brings me superficial satisfaction as I watch my knuckles split open and blood begins to pour out. There is no pain. No grief. No fear.
A scream catches in my throat as the door to the confined motel bathroom breaks open and he stands …show more content…

Thick scars cover me as a reminder from him that I should stop trying. My most recent effort was months ago and I did not even make it out the taut open window before he dragged me back to hell. The agony immediately following caused my defiance to dissolve. But this time feels different. This time I feel hope buried in the most secluded parts of myself blooming. Optimism surfaces as I make the hasty decision and swing my aching legs over the side of the bed and head towards the door. I have no possessions to gather besides the torn black dress lying on the floor. I feel electricity pulsing through my skin as I warily twist the metal doorknob. He always locks the door from the outside, keeping me from ever escaping him. As the door swings open, the soft wind wraps me in a blanket of warmth. Stepping onto the damp cement patio, I sense the cold stone on every part of my calloused feet. My extremities tingle at the new senses. Rediscovering nature and the opportunities that it carries causes my heart to catch fire. I begin to walk, not caring that the gravel is painful against my raw feet. My mind races as I try remember how to breathe. As I exhale, an uncontrollable smile plasters itself to my face. I will the futile girl in the mirror to evaporate from my body, remaining trapped in the shards of glass still on the bathroom floor. The warm sun burns across my back as the pace of my steps increase. The birds

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