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Bus Stop.by `girltripped
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My fingers slide over the keyboard. Sweaty and shaking. I see how my blood leaves a slippery trail from the "d" to the "i". It hurts, but I bite my lip and resist the urge to scream. I have to send this mail. It's the last thing I have to do before I'll leave. My index finger presses the "e" and I stop there for a second before my finger continues to end the sentence with a dot. Yes, I'm done.
With my other hand I reach for the mouse and with wet eyes I look at the button "send". It's blurred and I can barely read it. My hand starts to shake.
But you have to send it. You have to! As I click, a sob escapes
by =MellasFenixxes
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Words are not capable of describing,
The injustice on this forsaken planet,
And I bet, as the end is nearing,
even the apocalypse can't cure it.
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~ Mortified grace .
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