The Beauty Beneath

I hate my mother... don't you?


1. Vile Hospital Detergent

Sixty-degree burns,

Severe Haemorrhaging,

Certain DEATH...

But some how... I made it.


Gradually my eyelids fluttered open to reveal my position,



In hospital?

Gathering every inch of strength my muscles were capable of,

I rushed to the bathroom mirror.

Soft limp hair poured down my face to only slightly rest on my...

Scabbed cheeks,

Repulsive scars etched across my skin,

Deep enough to expose raw, pink ,fleshy tissue.

Actions tumbled through my subconscious,

My brain almost intoxicated by the monotonous rhythm of destruction.


A soft purr uttered across my lips,

These simple meaningless words of vile vengeance,

Soothed me,

Calmed me,

Restored every sense of unity and dignity my soul had possession of.


My “dear” mother will pay for her actions,

As all actions have consequences.

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