"Did he touch you again?" He doesn't wait for an answer, turning to glower at the door. "Lo uccido" he spits, deathly calm
"What does that mean?"
"It means I'm going to fucking kill him, Sawyer."
I scoff,why the hell he's acting like he gives a shit,
"Whatever. You don't have much room to talk anyway." He turns that glower to me,
"Come again?" he challenges,
"Well, did you not touch me while actively drowning me? You're going to act like there isn't something wrong with that?"
A dimple begins to appear in his cheek, and I swear to God, if the fucker actually smiles rn, I'm going to kill him.
"you're right, and I'd do it again. I'm the only one allowed to touch you, bella ladra, and I'm the only one who will cause you pain. Capito?"
"I don't want to hear your words."
"Then what do you want to hear?"
"I want to hear what it sounds like when you are breaking and can't scream."
Ecco la mia piccola ladra.
She's walking on the beach now.
She looks tired, sad but I'm not falling for that bullshit again.
It was one of the reasons I had bothered with her in the first place.
She had a sense of humor and a perpetual grin, but nothing about her seemed happy or carefree. Which is exactly why I liked her. My darkness attracted to hers, and it seems I learned the hard way just how dangerous it is.
My coping mechanism is watching my hard-earned money go up in flames
I've never had a man stare at me the way Enzo does. It feels the he's throwing me onto a table, taking a scalpel to my flesh, and slicing me open to see my blackened soul bared for him.
He chuckles, the sound low and deep. Humourless. Like I've just told him that I am not scared of him while he's holding a knife to my jugular.
Even though his smirk it cruel, it does things to my insides anyway , Twists them up like a rag drenched in gasoline before lighting a match to it.
"You're going to ruin me," he reiterates.
"I won't."
I will.
At least not like he thinks.
"You're lying."
I am.
"You won't be the only one that will be ruined, remember?" I settle on, deciding to go with the truth.
I absolutely will destroy him, and later, I'll hate myself for it more than I already do.
"You're going to ruin me, too. But unfortunately for you, that's where ! feel most at home."
"Are you going to murder me now?" I ask, my voice scarcely above the thunderous sound from the falls. It would be incredibly easy for my screams to be washed away.
"Would anyone be looking for you?" he retorts.
I smile sardonically. "Yes. I have people looking for me right now." He'll never understand the truth of that statement. Not until it's too late, at least.
"This waterfall isn't well known," he responds, "It'd take a while to find you."
Despite the fact that I'm sweating from the temperature, his answer-no, his voice-sends shivers down my spine.
I shrug. "I never want to be found."
"Then I suppose I have you right where I want you."
The naming things technique is a simple grounding exercise that helps bring you back to the present moment when anxiety takes over. It's often called the 5-4-3-2-1 method, and it engages your senses to shift focus away from anxious thoughts. Here's how it works:
1. Name 5 things you can see – Look around and say what you see (a chair, my phone)
2. Name 4 things you can touch – Notice the texture of objects around you (my shirt, my hair).
3. Name 3 things you can hear – Focus on external sounds (a fan humming, birds outside).
4. Name 2 things you can smell – If nothing is obvious, take a deep breath and notice any subtle scents.
5. Name one thing you can smell. It could be water or taste in your mouth.
Can you imagine how cool it will be
laying on your floor with a bleeding wrist
coldness seeping in, coldness bleeding out
silence and last wait for a beautiful end
"But what if chaos is embedded within you?"
"Accept it"
"Try to live with it."
"I've accepted this chaos and I'll let it out one day but untill that day accept that chaos accept the suffering try to live with it, raise it like a child and when it will be old enough, mature enough then let it out and see what will happen.
Don't give up so easily fight with it, make it your worst enemy and at the same time make it your best friend play fucking games with death.
Tell it to stop trying and you'll give what it wants and you'll give it in a grand way."
A statue of little girl is hanging on the wall
"Goddess of luck" is what she is being called
They do a stupid, absurd ritual on her
And say it had made their wishes come true so far
every selfish, manipulative, greedy comes to her
and hammer a nail of wish into her
When you share few lines you wrote with deepseek for review and it says "keep writing - you have a gift."
🖤
"You really doo't like me. Why?"
"You give me a feral dog vibe"
My mouth parts, before a bout of shocked laughter bursts from my throat.
"A feral dog?" I repeat incredulously. It's so true that I can't even be offended. I rest my chin on my hand, a grin on my face. "Do tell."
He rests both arms on the bar and leans down "You're destructive and uncontrollable.
"You must be a psychologist," I return dryly.
"I just know trouble when I see it."
The ocean is beautiful. But it's also unforgivable. Within seconds, it can turn against you, Drag you down so violently, you don't know which way is up, and feed you into its cevernous mouth until you drown or end up between the teeth of something much scarier.
Cigarettes are also unforgivable, with the way they eat at you from the inside and Kill you slowly, and then all at once.
I decide I like the ocean, and I like cigarettes,
Because I...I am also unforgivable.
I'm taken by a beautiful nightmare
L'appel du vide?
Arey you kidding me?
so that all was not meaningless..?
Murder me in the library of an old Victorian house during a thunderstorm or don't waste my fucking time.
"Happy people don't fear death, because there's nothing more they want out of life than what they have right now."
(and unhappy people do? I don't think so)
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