Can anyone me with writing this
this is what i got so far?
the blood drips on the tormented shore and the air becomes misty and hurls around her. her spirit leaps out of her chest, shuddering her cadaver as it falls limp.
seeking revenge is her priority, you can see it in her eyes as lucifer himself greets her and welcomes her home. i see the fiery depths of hell engulfing her and a ring of hell fire appears on her finger. then i wake up, every night it’s the same nightmare, and it’s killing me because the girl that i see, well she looks like me…
i’m not bad, not wicked nor devil worshipping. my father and mother are both christian, and very pure to their last belief, i look in the mirror and query every aspect of what i see. is it the crooked nose? the grey lifeless eyes? or the thick layer of skin that covers my body? why am i so different? why do my parents hate me, why does society merely attempt to hurt me… why am i a monster?
it be midnight when i flee the abandoned wreck of which i currently occupy in my refuge to search for food, it smells like death and feels like an omen follows in my very footsteps, creeping and ready to attack. i hurry to the closest supermarket dock, and rummaging through the scraps till goodies fall into my hands, filling the bag my mother threw at me for my 13th birthday. and running once again, the wind runs through my veins filling me with life and calming my nerves. i stop once i’m close to my wreck, and debate weather it’s safe to creep in, the sound of a panting dog soothes my nerves and i allow myself to fade into the shadows.
omens lurk around and play, only at night, never in the day. like owls that hoot, they screech and bark. while i slave away, making an ark. from stolen materials, grows my escape. day by day, i slave away till the last night of 1978 at last it’s ready, and shines bright under the light. the next few days pass as a blur and a routine developed, sleeping, searching, eating and repeat.