5 Chapter 4. It Hurts...

Adriana felt so raw; like there was no skin over her pain as the wind made it bleed.

You know you are in endless pain when you wake up one morning and realize that you are dead, buried and forgotten by those who are dear and close to you but alive and kicking to strangers, people who don't give a damn about you. You know you will forever be in pain when you wake up in the morning, with a jolt, to an emotionless face of someone who tells you nothing but to go out and kill, take another human's life or yours would be taken in more painful ways than you can imagine. You know pain when you go to sleep with it every night and you see yourself being lowered in your own grave but when you scream to those mourning and burying you your screams are whimpers that no one hears.

Her pain left invisible scars, the pain, it was at the back of her mind like a pulse. A pulse that pushed itself forwards as it demanded attention. It would Cut her frozen heart and mind in half, as it burned with every breath she took.

The pain seeped out in words, it hurt to hear them, it hurt to read them.

There was a silence to Adriana's soul; Iike fall leaves under frost. She felt the chill in her blood, the cold brought vital points of her brain to a stand still. Part of it was pain, yet she could not endure, she slept through night after night without the anaesthesia of false hope.

That was her winter.

Swallow down the pain, eat it up into your belly and wear a passive face.

It was only the beginning, the beginning of the pain, the suffering and the endless congo line of emotions that were in store for Adriana.

It increased in angry waves, lulls that gave off false hope of an end. Each peak robbed the ability to speak, sending Adriana crashing to the bare boards. It was as though her blood had become acid, intent on destroying her from the inside out.

All she could do was writhe, an occasional whimper escaped to echo off the walls.

The pain held an unpleasant warmth to it, eating at the stomach. Nausea too, just enough to make her hold onto anything for support and breath slow. Adriana often prized herself with the ability of ignoring pain and just rocking on regardless, but that wasn't possible anymore. It owned her, dominated every thought, controlled every action.

Adriana, a ball of self loathing.

Her rich, brown, broken eyes watered in agony until her cheeks became waterlogged, the floor a pond that contained disappearing memories in the form of tears and blood.