FINAL DRAFT #4

I can see the light

Shining so brightly near me

I am in the dark

It won't let me go

Consuming bodies and souls

I need the brightness

It's calling me over

I can hear it's gentle voice

I'm stuck in the dark

Reaching my hand out

Trying to come become one with

that wonder light

                                                                                The darkness tries to

                                                                               pull me to it's darkest place

                                                                               I am so very scared

                                                                                Suddenly I glow

                                                                          The hanis darkness is gone

                                                                              I am in the light

Final Draft # 3

       

Always

           His jaw tightened and the veins in his temples throbbed. His eyes flashed darts at me. The words erupted from his mouth: "I can't believe you would do something like this Claudia. How could you do this to us? Do you never think? Does this mean nothing to you? You're such a stupid, bitch." The hiss in his voice sent shivers down my spine. He held his head in both hands and stared at me, on my knees sobbing on the ground. A hand hesitantly reached out towards me. However, when his fingers neared my flesh, instead of touching, they recoiled as if the very contact would burn them. He rose from the bed and stood to pace back and forth only to settle on leaning against the wall in frustration.

"Do you think so little of me, Claudia? Did you think that if you left, I would never find you? You cannot run from me! It is not possible." He banged his fist against the wall and did not even flinch as blood began to pour from his hand. I looked at him with fear in my eyes. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Matthew. I cannot continue with this relationship if you keep hurting me the way you do. What am I supposed to do when you come home every night drunk to the point where you cannot stand? How am I to continue if you are hurting me and yourself with your careless ways? We are married! Yet, you still think that you are single and have no responsibility. This is a pointless fight and you know it, but you will not admit it. Why won't you let me go?"

He looked at me with confusion in his eyes. Pausing in his pacing, he looked away as if thinking about what I asked him. He places his hands slowly in front of his face and looks at them carefully. "I hurt you? In what way have I hurt you? Never have I touched you in a harmful way. Tell me I have not touched you in a way that has caused you harm!" I looked away from his standing form. Can I bear to answer him truthfully? What would lying do now? "Yes, you have touched me. You have hit me to the point where bruises must be hidden by make-up. To the point where every time you come near me, I am afraid for the sake of my life and your child." I look at him expectantly. The news was out now.

Matthew got a far away look in his eyes as he sat back down onto the bed. His eyes traveled to look into mine. I could only stare as he tries to comprehend what I have just told him. "My child? What are you talking about, Claudia? There is no child." I stand with trembling legs and walk towards him slowly, afraid that he may retaliate again. "Yes, there is a child in me that is yours. I was afraid to tell you because I did not know what your reaction would be. I do not want you to hate me for getting pregnant." I whisper the last part and quickly look away.

I could feel his strong arms wrap around me and I tensed slightly at the sudden contact. "I could never hate you for doing something that is unavoidable. Will we keep it? If I can become a better husband to you, can we keep the baby?" He asked this in such a sincere manner that I am actually thinking about it. What am I to do with this? I looked up from the floor and stared at him. I studied his eyes, and reached up tenderly to push the hair back that hides his face. "I would like to try, yes. But, you have to be honest to your word, you have to try. Will you promise to stop drinking every night? Will you promise to watch your temper?" He grabbed my hands and stroked the back of them with his thumbs, while still holding my gaze. "I promise. Always and forever."

Final Draft #2

It Should Have Been Me.... 

Why is it we feel when other people are in pain? We say it but we actually don't know what they're going
through.
Five years ago, you would have seen a young girl, about nine, still in denial a week after her sister's death.
She knew it happened but she didn't want to believe it.
All alone in her room, someone would rarely witness a single crystal tear run down her cheek. At nine years old, she has never seen a dead body....until that one single day that haunts her in her dreams.
She refuses to talk about it. She refuses to get help. She didn't want help. She didn’t need it. She didn't want to go to therapy and tell a complete stranger about her sister's suicide and have the stranger tell her that they know what she's going through. Doubt they do know.
In her room, staring at a closet from her bed, she watched the fabrics of her clothing. To you it may just be clothes. But to her, they show her pictures. Pictures of what use to be and what is now. Things of past memories. Things of heartache and happiness.
As the young girl's nose get stuffy and her eyes watery and red, people outside her door people go about their lives.
If they can do it...Why can't she?
Because she is so young and doesn't know any better.
Her once pure and happy heart turns scared and hopeless. Her once bright eyes, turned dull. Her once shining smile, turned to a dark frown.
Like she said, she didn't need help. She doesn't need the same stranger barging into her life thinking they been through what she did. THEY DIDN'T! No one did. She's left in her little world ALL ALONE. Even if so many people roam around her, she still feels alone. Gone-- because of a memory so long ago.
Would you know how it feels to disappear from the world at nine years of age? Do you know how she feels living up to her sister's story? Do you know how hard it is for her to tell the story of her sister's death? Or how hard it is to hold her tears back?
No one understands! No one cares!
All alone, this poor disgrace of a girl.
It was her fault that her sister tied that rope around her neck- It was all her fault. People tell her it wasn't but she KNOWS what's true. But yet, she sits and nods her head in agreement with them. But she knows deep within her heart: she disagrees with ALL of them.
All she thinks now is: "It should have been me."