Mozis Greeter Exotic Dreams's blog: "courage"

The picture seized her temporary fear, swearing under her breath she headed to the car. She didn't care what he said, she was going there. The drive took forever as horrible images flashed through her mind, finally she pulled in the drive way. She shook her head as she got out of her car and walked towards him. Laying in the gravel, eyes closed, and an empty bottle smashed at his side. She sat down next to him and waited for him to open his eyes. He opened his eyes a little and whispered i told you not to come. she smiled sadly and ran her hand across his face and i promised you i'd always be there lets go inside. he allowed her to pull him to his feet. you're the one. he whispered his head buried in her neck. she could feel his tears collecting on her collar bone. i'm NOT the one, but right now i'm the only one you got. lets go inside. he pulled himself from her and grabbed her hands staring at her feet he whispered three words she didn't want t hear. no you dont. now lets go inside. she laughed it off trying to pull him to the door. I hate you. he said softly. i hate you. once again she laughed this time for the emotion chnage in his three words I don't care if you hate me she pulled him towards the door the sooner you get in the house the sooner i leave. His eyes teared up again, he threw his head back and sighed i hate the hold you have on me. I hate that i care for you. I hate that you're not here. She didn't reply just pulled him once more. He dropped to his knees and she gently lowered his head to the ground. In frustration she slammed her hand on the concrete next to him, forgetting about the shattered glass. FUUUUCK the word forced its way out of her mouth before she could stop it. Glancing at her watch she swore again. i can't be late for work. get the fuck up she said grabbing him under the arms. she dragged him in the house and to his bed, where he began anothe slur of i loves you and i hate yous. A few moments later he was passed back out, she kissed his forehead and walked away.

It's me. It's me It's me. Hey baby it's me his words floated through the chaotic darkness of my mind, awake i could hear him, lost i couldn't listen to him. don't let me ago i muttered as i struggled agaisnt his hold. please i knew i was saying these words but i couldn't stop the battle to be free that raged through me. the harder i pulled or pushed myself from him the tighter his grip got, the more frequent his words came. babe. stop. it's me. you're ok. it's me. My heart was ripping through my chest, I wasn't even sure if i was breathing during the panicked gasps. Slowly i was able to shake the feeling of a trapped animal. His arms remained locked around me, his words whispered in my ear. Finally i was able to catch my breath and slow my heart. I rolled to the other side of the bed, ashamed of my inability to sometimes seperate reality from the darkest sections of my mind. He reached over and rubbed the back of my neck I remember your nightmares. He said, i could hear the smile in his voice. I rolled over and and looked in his eyes. I smiled trying to remember how many times he met the brunt end of my fist or elbow, Yet he never let me go. I kissed his lips, grabbed his hand, and closed my eyes wondering if he would ever understand how many times he has saved me from my mind.

He looked at her and read her placid face with ease.. he sat down beside her and gently took her hand. Without saying a word, she knew like always he'd be the one who'd understand. they sat in silence, her phone laying by her side. with a tear on her cheek she whispered i didn't want him to mean that much to me. He didn't say anything just slightly squeezed her hand. she felt the pressure of tears buidling but refused to set them free. silently in her mind she knew she deserved all of this misery. He didn't look at her, nor did he speak. He was her strength when she was weak. she waited for the usual words of comfort that would just push her further away, but silence was all she was greeted with. a scapegoat "you're too good for me" apology was all that he could give me she muttered into the silence. I didn't even matter enough for a real apology. Once agan he merely squeezed her hand in response. another tear slid down her cheek and landed on the chair. the seconds turned into minutes of silence that they sat there, her deeply breathing trying to keep from screaming. He just held her hand and looked ahead. He squeezed her hand, she looked up at him as he stared down at her. a sad smile played across his lips i see two choices for you he said putting his hand under her chin You can be depressed for HIS loss or accept the fact that his apology is right and move on. they stared at each other with the same deep silence as before. as he got up to leave she caught the last tear she'd cry for him before it hit the floor.

The moonlight burned brightly in her room. It's cold, harden beauty went unnoticed amongst ravaged notebooks and crumpled paper. An hour ago she claimed a new bottle from her car. Between tears and destroyed past she couldn't remember if she closed her front door. Reading another memory, she smirked in disgust, and took another swig. Crumpling the paper she tossed it towards the door. As she raised the bottle she watched it roll back towards her bed. Bottle still raised she turned towards the door and saw a figure standing there. "Uhh.. Your door was open," he stammered "you didn't answer your phone." He stepped carefully around the chaotic sea of brutalized paper, and reached for the bottle. she pulled it closer to her body and punched him square in the chest. the outward aggression felt amazing, she discarded the bottle and continued to pummel. He allowed her weak rampage until the sobs consumed her. she searched in the blankets and reclaimed the bottle, holding it in one hand, her head rested in the other. She felt the bed shift under his weight as he reached to comfort her He allowed a few more sips before removing the near empty bottle from her grasp. Nestled in his arms, she breathed in his scent. Content, she didn't want to tell him the truth of behind the destroyed work Sensing her reluctance, he pulled her closer and smoothed a crumpled paper over his knee. She studied his face, waiting for a reaction to confirm she made the right choice by trying to throw them away. A tiny smile slowly showed at the corner of his mouth as his eyes flashed brightly. He opened his mouth to speak soothing words, completely sober in her mind, she reached up and pulled him to her. Closing her eyes she kissed him and whispered thank you.

The room spun in a chaotic desperation, even the sober were sickened by the slow motion strobe light effect. amongst the shadows a small child hid, clinging to the security blanket the darkness offered. Mumbling words the child rocked back and forth, her tiny hands balled tightly and pressed agasint her face. not even tightly clenched eyes could keep the tears from rolling down her face. Just outside the shadows a "grown woman" laughed, flirting with her eyes she flipped her hair, and tossed another shot back. It burned the back of her throat and she silently blamed that for the tears in her eyes. the strobe effect was becoming brighter, causing her to laugh louder. shot after shot she tried to forget what she could never remember to begin with. The room pressed agasint the childs throat she seperated her lips, threw back her head felt the burn of the shot, and screamed. The room seemed to pulsate as the scream grew in volume. But the rooms contents went unbothered, the shots kept coming and the slowly decaying woman kept laughing. Kept flirting. Kept dying. The child and the adult stood hand in hand, looking at the ruins of their life crumpling around them. the room began to spun and the child and the woman became one. laying in the rubble the woman held her head and cried, sounding like the child locked inside.

and how it goes she stared at the pictures briefly as she deleted each one. she wished she could rid the memories locked deep her head. too long she had played into his games, coming when he called and obediently staying away when he found others with whom he'd rather stay. her breath caught in her throat when she came to the cuddled pictures of them, a rare occasion she smiled so big. stopping on the last picture, him kissing her, she paused and couldn't help but feel disgusted on how quick he played her. the last picture deleted she threw down her phone and took another drink. closing her eyes, alone she feel asleep.

In a world grown cold and unforgiving no one noticed the bruised and bloody shell of a little girl walking among them. in a daze she walked aimlessly her large blue eyes were tear filled, every once in a while she'd open her mouth but only tiny gasps came out. Her blonde hair was disheveled and a bright pink hair clip hung loosely on a few strands. Her left cheek bore a mark of a partial boot print, her lips swollen and bloody. Down her face she had tear streaks amidst the blood and dirt. Her shirt was ripped in places and caked with bloody mud. You could hardly make out a smiling Dora the Explorer splayed on the front of it. Her pants were unbutton and rested on her tiny hips. She had one shoe on and its laces flopped against the pavement every time she took a step. She clutched to a headless stuffed teddy bear, keeping it close to her chest. Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, she opened her mouth one more time and a scream ripped from her soul assaulted the ears of those around her. The scream sounded inhuman and a few were shocked when they realized the fragile, tiny frame it had been emitted from. Again and again she screamed, her shoulders heaving up and down, her face buried in the protruding stuffing from the bear. A small crowd of onlookers stared at each other each silently begging the other to step up and do something. A large man burst through the crowd, sporting a blood spotted t-shirt and prison made tattoos covering his bulging arms. The little girl swung herself down into a fetal position and held her breath. The crowd watched as he muttered something under his breath and grabbed the little girl by the hair. He swung her under his arms and charged back the same way he had came. Still clutching the teddy bear she looked at the people with a look of pure terror. In moments the two had disappeared and everyone went about their way as if the tortured, little girl, pleading for a savior was never there. A month would pass before someone stumbled upon the body of a little girl, littered with cuts and bruises. One person claimed the corpses of POWs were in better shape then this delicate little girl. An autopsy would later reveal that the little girl had bled to death. This little girl was believed to have died a slow and painful death alone. She was found still clutching the headless teddy bear. One man remained haunted by this find, ever since he saw the little girl being carried away by a stone-chiseled man he had nightmares. Night after night, a little girl with the large blue eyes was reaching out to him for help. He reached for her but woke up before he got to her. Even in his dreams he failed this blood covered girl. One night in the stillness of the darkness a single gunshot rang out, momentarily waking neighbors who promptly fell back asleep. To exhausted with their own life to care about another. A few days later a family member found the man in bed. His body stiff and hard with an exit wound at the top of his head. Dry blood splattered the walls and his bed. Next to him laid a single piece of paper that read: “If I had the courage to do something, then we wouldn’t be dead”....