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Sniffing The White Powder

Short story By: DarkHorse

If she had not sniffed that white powder everything wouldve been fine... She wouldnt have killed her...

Submitted:Jul 1, 2014    Reads: 47    Comments: 1    Likes: 0   

There she locked herself... In her room that was once filled with bright and happy memories. She sat as the dark and cold surrounded her. Not only it surrounded her, it filled her... filled her right to her soul. The world spun around her turning everything to grey. She didn't know where she was anymore... She was lost, confused and broken. She was torn to shreds and she knew it. She wanted nothing but peace and for the world to stop spinning. She wanted to feel warmth like she used to before, to see light and feel anything but what she was feeling now. She couldnt explain what she was feeling, there were so many feelings. All she knew was what was around her which was all blured and dark and spinning. As if she had flipped a switch, memories came to her vision as everything slowed down. The memories were vivid and clear. She watched the memories play as she realized these werent just random, it was all the sins she had done. She watched herself as five year old lying to her parents. How she had said that she had not eaten the candies. Then she watched all her sins as she progressed in age. The more recent she got the more the sins became bigger. Tears ran down her face as she saw herself recently sniff the white powder. The white powder that her friends promised that it wasnt anything bad. From then on she need not watch the memory for she had already clearly remembered. She remembered how after she sniffed that white powder... she felt all of a sudden so... vicous and free. She remembered not feeling and thinking. Starting from then she got obsessed. She wanted to stop but she didnt have the will. And so she carried on. It wasnt till the last time she took drug she stopped and became into what she was now. She turned to the last memory or sin, the most recent one. There she was as she remembered, sniffing once again. She didnt know what she was thinking when she grabbed that knife. Now she was screeming at her past self. Screeming for herself to stop and think and see, but she knew better. She stopped screeming, now she was sobbing. She wanted to look away but she couldnt. Even if she did she would still see, feel and remember that moment she had stuck the knife into her mothers heart.


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