My notebook is almost full and since most of the weird stories bits haven't been typed up yet, I'll begin typing it up as I stay home due to the Coronavirus.
][][][][
April 14th, I don't know the year.
The list was just scribbles of sloppy slanted writing. Ideas and motivation was clammed up in their brain. how long had they been sitting at the desk. Their eyes sinking in to their skull as bags sagged. They finally put down their pen and examined the large ink plot on the page.
Short horrors
The pain was becoming unbearable. She wanted to curl up and scream. But years of conditioning and harsh words from those around her told her she couldn't. She just had to grin and bear it.
Well, she was tired of that. The medicine designed to ease the cramps wasn't helping unless she got dangerously close to overdosing.
She finally couldn't bear it anymore. She collected the best knives in the house. She couldn't afford a doctor and knew that they might not even be able to fix the problem. She just knew she wanted the pain to end.
A cocktail of pain
[][][
And that's all that's written on this page. I think that was on one of days I wanted to remove my whole uterus when my cramps were really bad and I was turning it into a story, but stopped half way through.
No comments:
Post a Comment