Eloquent Quote #6841681
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Waking under the warm sheets, sun filtering through the blinds

Waking under the warm sheets, sun filtering through the blinds - dust particles dancing in the rays like glittering pieces of gold. Your breath in my hair, our legs tangled and your arm tight around my waist.
Heaven.

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eloquent

posted July 29, 2013 at 7:40am UTC tagged with eloquent, writing, story

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She sat alone, waiting for someone who never came. Fighting back tears, she gazed towards the door again, hopeful that they'd walk in at any moment. They wouldn't forget her, would they? They promised to help. They wanted to help. Right? She trusted them. Everyone else had brushed her off, told her that she was just lazy, that helping her would be 'too hard'. They weren't going to give up too, were they? Alone, she sat. Her chest felt heavy, disappointment burning in her veins. She knew that she didn't matter to them either. She was forgettable. Insignificant to them, and to everyone else.

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I am an intelligent, eloquent, well-mannered young woman who just happens to say, "f.uck" a lot.
She sat alone, waiting for someone who never came. Fighting back tears, she gazed towards the door again, hopeful that they'd walk in at any moment. They wouldn't forget her, would they? They promised to help. They wanted to help. Right? She trusted them. Everyone else had brushed her off, told her that she was just lazy, that helping her would be 'too hard'. They weren't going to give up too, were they? Alone, she sat. Her chest felt heavy, disappointment burning in her veins. She knew that she didn't matter to them either. She was forgettable. Insignificant to them, and to everyone else.
She stood silently, watching as they slowly lowered the casket into the ground. The thud of it hitting the bottom made her flinch, nausea rising in her throat. She fought the urge to turn and run, run from this service, from this day. From the truth. He was gone. Ripped away from her too soon, taken before his time. He was only twenty-six, damnit. He wasn't supposed to leave her this soon - not until they were old and grey. Pain clawed at her chest and a muffled sob tumbled from her lips. His brother, standing next to her, wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. He gently guided her forward, offering his little brother's widow all the support he could. Dropping a rose into the grave, her tears spilled over again. He wouldn't hold her again, never drive her crazy with his inability to put the cap back on the toothpaste, never curl up on the couch with her, wouldn't kiss her again. The soft fluttering in her belly reminded her of the hardest part. He would never hold their baby girl.
She feels like she's drowning. Everyone expects so much - too much. She isn't as happy is she looks. She's struggling, crying out for help - but no-one listens. It's harder than they think it is - and all she wants is to make them proud of her, but nothing she does is every enough. She tries so hard, but she just can't do it. "I'm fine!" she says, a bright smile on her face. Only her pillow, soaked in her pain, her fear and her weakness, knows the truth.