I'M 18.
I wasn't supposed to be here.
I wasn't supposed to live that long.
Who could blame me for thinking that?
Everyday felt like my last.
Why couldn't I have the sweet release,
the sweet release of death?
My grandmother says I have a saving angel.
But I think I have a Demon instead.
That is all I see.
Demons.
Demons watching me.
Demons hunting me.
Demons preying on me.
Where is my sweet release?
The bitter taste of blood fills my mouth.
The stench clogs my noise.
I tell myself it's not real.
But it was and it was mine.
I want to read more! :)