Dreaming With A Broken Heart

The feeling is like no other. I wish they’d just leave me alone. They’re always bugging me. I can’t be my own person. Why did God take her away from me?

Sometimes I get lost in my own world. They all call me a freak; they tell me I’m useless. I’m never good enough for anyone. My mom wonders if I’m even her son. I’m scared. I hate life. I hate my name. I see things in a way no one else does. I get yelled at for not being good enough. Kids tell me to die already. It hurts… a lot.

It's okay to write a sad story, it's not okay when you can relate. When you can relate, it's more sad than the story itself...

*contains mild language*
Copyright © 2015 by bella zaffino
Copyright © 2015 Dreaming With A Broken Heart
Copyright © 2015 Cover Photo by bella zaffino

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form


2. Prolouge

      It was then and there that I realised I was alone, filled with great fear, the problem – I was only taught basic things in school: maths, science, r.e., etc., but never in my life had I ever been taught how to deal with fear. I'd just have to realise for myself - learn from the past and put my best foot forward - nothing more and nothing less. What I realise now is that fear is simply nothing but a term that we as humans overuse. Fear is simply illusions that your eyes seek, unusual things that your mouth speaks, tricks in which your mind plays, and honestly everything in life at the end of every day.


As everything started dying around me, the truth unraveled and I’d awoken. Only then had I realised what he was talking about. It had all become clearer. The day would draw near, Nights nearer and death at its nearest. I was falling quicker than I could catch myself, asking for more than I could give, hurting more than I could forgive. I was becoming friends with a monster; myself. I guess losing something you care so much about ruins you, I know it ruined me...

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