The Lost Diary #9 | State of Decay

The Life of The Lost Girl: a creative fictional diary, sometimes based on certain factual truths.

STATE OF DECAY

There’s a darkness inside of me—a demon, lurking in the shadowed parts of my soul. It consumes every ounce of my well-being and there’s no way to kill it without killing myself. It feeds on my happiness, my failures, my disappoints, my insecurities and the loss of my hope. It disables me. 

It whispers awful things to me and gets inside my head—its maggots crawling inside my mind, burying their filth and decay inside my brain. It becomes me.

The Lost Diary #7 | Internal

The Life of The Lost Girl: a creative fictional diary, sometimes based on certain factual truths.

Internal

I'm sorry.

These words are hard to find—hard to speak. I'm sorry you have to see me like this, so raw and so weak. 

I wish I was different, I wish I were strong. Haunted by my corrupted and anxious thoughts, I wish to belong.

The Lost Diary #6 | Two Sided

The Life of The Lost Girl: a creative fictional diary, sometimes based on certain factual truths.

Two Sided

There are always two sides to every story, just like there are two sides of every face: two different personalities. I was never the popular type in my horrid memories of high school, even when I tried to fit in. I was always the 'odd' one out—the lone black sheep in the flock of white and grey.

Smiles were often faked and forced, my back often stabbed, my face laughed at, and my mind lost in a cloud of hurt, betrayal and deception. My actions were mocked, my voice was always a distant sound in the noisy background forever unheard, and my image was nothing but a cruel joke.

The Lost Diary #5 | Insanity

The Life of The Lost Girl: a creative fictional diary, sometimes based on certain factual truths.

A lost entry from the dark possible future...a lost soul.

The Lost Diary #4 | Face of the Past

The Life of The Lost Girl: a creative fictional diary, sometimes based on certain factual truths.

Face of the Past

I saw him again in my dream, a face from the past. He was standing there and our sights diverted to each other’s. I felt my heart sink lower in my chest, words get caught inside my throat and my eyes burning and tearing from the sight of him. I hesitated for a moment, my body freezing on the spot, stopping right in front of him.

His Adam’s apple lowered inside of his throat. It had been so long since I last saw his face and since I last embraced him in my arms. I could feel tears building in my eyes—tears of sadness, frustration and anger. Everything came back to me in that instant—the pain, the joy: him. All of our memories together flood my thoughts within seconds, and from the way he was looking at me with sadness and pain in his gaze, he must have felt the same way, too.