"When one says one has no choice, one effectively loses control of oneself."

Disclaimer: This is fiction. Any semblance to a real life situation is amazing. Amazingly horrifying.




When she has been wounded and shamed, she gets desperate, desperately grasping at straws to cover the gaping wound. A wound that never heals. Toxic, sick and unhappy, she is unable to find the source of the venom. It courses through her veins, thick, green and ugly. A bright, venomous green. Green.

She doesn't know why, why she feels so bitter. It grasps her in its tight embrace, constricting. Crushing. Every single day. She is so angry. And it eats her up inside. Her heart beats with a rage, crimson blood red. Red.

Even then, she does not realise, that all that pulsating red and green makes her soul decay into a rotting black entity. I think, she's losing her sanity. Forgiveness afterall, is the hardest thing to do. She would rather die.



In the end, as Alex said, "bitterness is like eating poison and hoping the other person dies."

And I said, "what a loser."








The world is quite sad at the way things are turning out. Jane just doesn't want to pull the arrow out. She rather lie in the dust screaming to the rest of the world, "Look at me! Look at me! Ah, it hurts! I'm dying! I'm bleeding to death!" And when the wind blows against the arrow, Jane screams even louder. Simply pull out the arrow Jane, put on a bandage and recover. Then what ever happens from then on, will have no effect whatsoever. But Jane says, "its not that easy! The person that shot me must say sorry to me first! Then only will I pull the arrow out!" Grow up, we plead. Move on, we beg. But then Jane says, "ha! If that's what you want, you are not getting it! I will NOT move on. So there."

Bleed to death then.