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I am strong

I wonder what she would do if I died. If I just crawled into a fetal position and lay there until my life slipped away. She would probably beat me. Kick me until every bone was broken. Until my body was so bloody and ravaged- my face so torn and twisted- that no one would recognize me anymore. I wouldn't mind. I would just lie there and accept death with open arms. Embrace it with what was left of my ragged soul. Anything to escape the pain of looking into those monstrous eyes one more time. I often think that if I had a gun, I would use it to end this pain. Hold it to my head, and mock her to her face. Then blow my brains out. Let her taste the blood she had so often spilled. Or maybe, I could run away. Somewhere dark and sinister, like my thoughts. Somewhere I could easily disappear, and even after years of looking, she would never find. But no, I must not do any of these things. I will not let her have her satisfaction, I will not let her scare the others with my corpse. I will continue to live, if only to fight her. I will not give up. For I.. I am strong.





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