Sunset
As the slam of the door echoed through the quaint house, a line was drawn through the peace that once flowed. She raced to the shed outside where she kept her pride and joy, her peace and serenity... Her happiness. Heart begging for the sea, where she spent most of her time she paddled through the lapping waves, the stress that was mounted on her shoulders bellowed from the depths of her soul and cried out in anguish. The pain fled, acid ran down her swollen face leaving grades of red on her pale complexion.
It seemed to be hours. The sun was setting tracing long streaks of pink and gold in then iridescent sky. Alone on the sand she grabbed her guitar and began to play, she played and played, played until the black of her worn strings wrapped around her battered fingers... Her soaked hair trickled water down her guitar like the grades of red that washed her beautiful complexion.
Abuse was inscribed on her body like stains on a newly washed jacket. She was too young for this... Symbols of her pain, depictions of anger and jealousy. She didn’t deserve this.
No more was this to reign over her existence. . . With one swift movement. Peace was restored. She valued nothing more than their love. . . destroyed.
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