Trinity Starling -- Diary of Randomness

Trinity Starling -- Diary of Randomness

Postby Trinity Starling » 28 Oct 2018, 17:30

HELLO beautiful people! I'm Trinity Starling, and WELCOME to my diary. Here you'll find my random daily musings, possible dreams from last night, and, if you're not careful, you just might learn something. I hope this diary will be a safe, inclusive, and fun way for us to interact with each other. I'll be posting on my diary pretty sporadically, so be on the lookout for more posts. Toodles!
Lady Name: Trinity Starling
ID: 5498311


Image

For this post the author Trinity Starling was thanked by:
Gaia (30 Oct 2018, 05:16)
Rating: 1.2%
 
User avatar
Trinity Starling
Senior Member
Senior Member
 
Posts: 240
Joined: 22 Jun 2018, 22:42
Location: Earth. Several billion years from the beginning.
Has thanked: 50 times
Have thanks: 321 times
National Flag:
United States

Re: Trinity Starling -- Diary of Randomness

Postby Trinity Starling » 28 Oct 2018, 17:39

National holidays can be a great way for us to celebrate the lives of important people and things that have changed history. There are many well-known ones -- MLK day, 4th of July, etc. Did you know that there are many national holidays that we don't celebrate? Today, October 28th is National Chocolate Day!! Among this, it is also National Immigrants Day and National First Responders Day.

Image

Image

Image

Personally, I think chocolate should get some more recognition.
I'm from the U.S so these are just some of the holidays there. If you live internationally, I'm love to hear about some of your traditions and holidays.

* Credit images to National Today
Lady Name: Trinity Starling
ID: 5498311


Image

For this post the author Trinity Starling thanked: 2
Czarina (28 Oct 2018, 19:06) • Gaia (30 Oct 2018, 05:15)
Rating: 2.41%
 
User avatar
Trinity Starling
Senior Member
Senior Member
 
Posts: 240
Joined: 22 Jun 2018, 22:42
Location: Earth. Several billion years from the beginning.
Has thanked: 50 times
Have thanks: 321 times
National Flag:
United States

Re: Trinity Starling -- Diary of Randomness

Postby Trinity Starling » 29 Oct 2018, 16:17

BOO!!
Now that Halloween is just around the corner, I thought I'd share a little something about it. Halloween was traditionally celebrated as a Celtic festival called Samhain (pronounced sow-in). For Samhain, people would dress up and light bonfires to ward off ghosts. It was orginally celebrated on November 1st, the Celtic New Year. Over the years, this ancient Celtic festival has evolved through the conquests of the Celts by other ancient empires, and now it is the beloved holiday (my personal favourite) that we know as Halloween.

* Credit information to History.com
Lady Name: Trinity Starling
ID: 5498311


Image

For this post the author Trinity Starling was thanked by:
Gaia (30 Oct 2018, 05:15)
Rating: 1.2%
 
User avatar
Trinity Starling
Senior Member
Senior Member
 
Posts: 240
Joined: 22 Jun 2018, 22:42
Location: Earth. Several billion years from the beginning.
Has thanked: 50 times
Have thanks: 321 times
National Flag:
United States

Re: Trinity Starling -- Diary of Randomness

Postby Trinity Starling » 31 Oct 2018, 07:36

Hello, dear ladies! Can you guess what today is? It's Halloween Eve!! To celebrate, I thought I'd share something about my current favorite TV show: Supernatural. It's an American television show on the CW network that centers around the lives of two brothers, Sam and Dean Winchester. The brothers travel across America hunting demons, vampires, and other monsters. Despite my long-running fear of horror movies, this is still one of my all-time favorite shows because of its unique approach to horror as a genre.

Image
Lady Name: Trinity Starling
ID: 5498311


Image

For this post the author Trinity Starling thanked: 2
Czarina (31 Oct 2018, 17:49) • Red Queen (28 Nov 2018, 12:40)
Rating: 2.41%
 
User avatar
Trinity Starling
Senior Member
Senior Member
 
Posts: 240
Joined: 22 Jun 2018, 22:42
Location: Earth. Several billion years from the beginning.
Has thanked: 50 times
Have thanks: 321 times
National Flag:
United States

Re: Trinity Starling -- Diary of Randomness

Postby Trinity Starling » 05 Nov 2018, 02:21

Sometimes I get random thoughts in my head. This morning's was "Mmm... tender, delicious marigolds." It's weird, I know. There's actually a far more serious phenomenon that mirrors this: intrusive thoughts. According to Psychology Today[1], intrusive thoughts are normal mental phenomena that take the form of disturbing images, such as you kicking a dog or falling out of a window. Trying not to have such thoughts actually makes them occur more often. How can this happen? Think of it like this: if someone tells you "don't think of a while bear," the first image that likely popped up into your mind was that of a white bear. Most of the time, intrusive thoughts are completely normal, but they can become harmful if you find yourself worrying about them too much. Then they can manifest into a mental disorder called Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, or OCD for short. When intrusive thoughts trigger OCD, it can cause you to avoid situations that keep popping up in those thoughts. You can learn more about OCD and its symptoms at www.ocfoundation.org. Rest assured, most intrusive thoughts are completely harmless and normal.

[1] https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog ... mal-or-not
Lady Name: Trinity Starling
ID: 5498311


Image
User avatar
Trinity Starling
Senior Member
Senior Member
 
Posts: 240
Joined: 22 Jun 2018, 22:42
Location: Earth. Several billion years from the beginning.
Has thanked: 50 times
Have thanks: 321 times
National Flag:
United States

Re: Trinity Starling -- Diary of Randomness

Postby Trinity Starling » 14 Nov 2018, 16:55

Hello all! Sorry I haven't posted in a while... I've been working on a special project: a short story! I love creative writing, and I thought that extending on something I'd originally written for school would be a good idea. I've written a few things (mostly for school, and I think such projects go a long way in fueling students' learning), but nothing nearly as complicated as this one. The story's about a young (16 years old, or so) girl named Elisabeth living in an unspecified part of the world (almost nothing about the setting is specified, lol, because I wanted it all to be very ambiguous) who has to fight to stay sane and alive when she and her family are shipped to a death camp. Fun, right? The story is mostly based off of the horrors of the real-life event that inspired a lot of it: the Holocaust, but it also has other elements that wouldn't have been seen in there. My goal for the story overall is to show how the gruesome human rights violations that occurred so long ago could happen anywhere if enough people with the common goal of inflicting harm on others. It's still somewhat of a work in progress, but if y'all would like, I can try posting it some time in the future.

SO... this post has been a bit dark, eh? The next one will be more light-hearted, I promise. :D

Cheers,

T.S
Lady Name: Trinity Starling
ID: 5498311


Image
User avatar
Trinity Starling
Senior Member
Senior Member
 
Posts: 240
Joined: 22 Jun 2018, 22:42
Location: Earth. Several billion years from the beginning.
Has thanked: 50 times
Have thanks: 321 times
National Flag:
United States

Re: Trinity Starling -- Diary of Randomness

Postby ClaudiaM25 » 15 Nov 2018, 13:11

Trinity Starling wrote:Hello all! Sorry I haven't posted in a while... I've been working on a special project: a short story! I love creative writing, and I thought that extending on something I'd originally written for school would be a good idea. I've written a few things (mostly for school, and I think such projects go a long way in fueling students' learning), but nothing nearly as complicated as this one. The story's about a young (16 years old, or so) girl named Elisabeth living in an unspecified part of the world (almost nothing about the setting is specified, lol, because I wanted it all to be very ambiguous) who has to fight to stay sane and alive when she and her family are shipped to a death camp. Fun, right? The story is mostly based off of the horrors of the real-life event that inspired a lot of it: the Holocaust, but it also has other elements that wouldn't have been seen in there. My goal for the story overall is to show how the gruesome human rights violations that occurred so long ago could happen anywhere if enough people with the common goal of inflicting harm on others. It's still somewhat of a work in progress, but if y'all would like, I can try posting it some time in the future.

SO... this post has been a bit dark, eh? The next one will be more light-hearted, I promise. :D

Cheers,

T.S



Sounds interesting! I would love to read it once it's ready ^_^
Image

For this post the author ClaudiaM25 was thanked by:
Trinity Starling (27 Nov 2018, 05:56)
Rating: 1.2%
 
User avatar
ClaudiaM25
Community Contributor
Community Contributor
Forum Freak!
Forum Freak!
 
Posts: 2271
Joined: 02 Jan 2010, 14:25
Location: Galati, Romania
Has thanked: 696 times
Have thanks: 3571 times
National Flag:
Romania

Re: Trinity Starling -- Diary of Randomness

Postby Trinity Starling » 16 Nov 2018, 00:41

Haha! Hi Claudia. Thanks for the support. I was afraid that no one would read my diary, especially since I've always addressed an "audience". I just have a few more tweaks to do and then my story should be ready. It's REALLY long compared to what I usually post (6-7 pgs on a document editor). Anyways, I'll be posting it soon.

Cheers!
Lady Name: Trinity Starling
ID: 5498311


Image
User avatar
Trinity Starling
Senior Member
Senior Member
 
Posts: 240
Joined: 22 Jun 2018, 22:42
Location: Earth. Several billion years from the beginning.
Has thanked: 50 times
Have thanks: 321 times
National Flag:
United States

Re: Trinity Starling -- Diary of Randomness

Postby Trinity Starling » 16 Nov 2018, 00:52

Hi all! I hope you've had a great week! For today's post, I thought I'd share something about my favorite animal: narwhals (or as I and many others call them, "unicorns of the sea"). Narwhals are large, tusked ocean mammals that can be found in the waters surrounding Antarctica, Greenland, and Canada. Here's some quick fun facts according to National Geographic[1].

- The narwhals' scientific name is Monodon monoceros
- Narwhals are carnivorous mammals
- Their size ranges from 13 to 20 ft and about 1.5 tons
- Narwhals as a species are near threatened

The narwhal's most defining feature, the tusk, is most prominent in males, but females can grow smaller tusks. Narwhals are porpoises, and related to dolphins. They often travel in groups of 15 to 20.

Citations:

[1] https://www.nationalgeographic.com/anim ... n/narwhal/
Lady Name: Trinity Starling
ID: 5498311


Image
User avatar
Trinity Starling
Senior Member
Senior Member
 
Posts: 240
Joined: 22 Jun 2018, 22:42
Location: Earth. Several billion years from the beginning.
Has thanked: 50 times
Have thanks: 321 times
National Flag:
United States

Re: Trinity Starling -- Diary of Randomness

Postby Trinity Starling » 16 Nov 2018, 05:01

HELLO!! I've got a big surprise for everyone!! I just finished my short story. Need a refresher on what it's about? I few posts ago I did a short synopsis of it. It's been a wonderful journey through writing the story, and I can't wait to see what everyone thinks of it.

*** WARNING: THE FOLLOWING STORY CONTAINS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE. DISCRETION IS ADVISED ***


Always & Forever

I breathe deeply, for this breath may be my last. The interrogator reaches for me again and, this time, I don’t have the strength to fight back. I am pummeled into the concrete. Immediately, I hear a crack. As the pain subsides, my body quavers and I stay immobilized as tears flow down my cheeks and sting my eyes.

MEMORY PALACE:
I can remember my previous life: carefree and whimsical. I had not a trouble in life in until that fateful day the guards came to my house. My mother used to plant poppies in our garden—she said they were a sign of peace—but she stopped after my father died. My brother Adam and I went to school together and talked with our friends. My mother waited for us every day at our house after school. That life has been torn from me.
I was sixteen when the police came to my door. I followed closely behind my mother as she went to answer it, and wondered what two burly men in army green uniforms and unisonly gruff expressions were doing outside our house.
“Is this the residence of Catherine Sheridan?” One of the men asked.
“Why yes, it is. How may I help you?” My mother replied.
“You and your family must come with us.” The other man said. “You have two minutes to gather your things. Do not question the process.”
“A-alright.” My mother stuttered. “Come on, Elisabeth.”
I couldn’t understand why these men wanted to take us. My brother Adam and I were told to gather our bare essentials and nothing else. We were crammed into a dark truck that smelled putrid. The entire vehicle was closed, so we all breathed in the same, damp air for many hours as the truck travelled for what seemed to be an eternity.

GENESIS:
Once everyone was evacuated from the trucks, we were lined up and searched for valuables. The guards would order us to strip clean of our clothes. Anyone who refused would be shot on the spot. As the sun set, a large man in a booming voice herded us into lines: one of which was for strong people who would be able to work. I knew that the only way to survive was to show that I was healthy enough to work. Everywhere I looked, there were scared children begging for their mothers; the elderly and crippled were either shot or sent to gas chambers. I remember seeing some people trying to escape: if the electric fence didn’t kill them, the machine gun fire would.
We had been herded into small barracks, known to many prisoners as “blocks,” that sometimes housed four or five families at once—where we would sleep, and live out our dreary, little lives. The camp burned with pent-up fury and hatred.
The guards enjoyed torturing us endlessly, sometimes depriving us of our sleep for hours, and “drowning” us in large containers, which would be filled with water to the brim, where we were bound to a board upside-down, gagged with a piece of cloth over our mouths and noses, and immobilized until we nearly went mad from the sense of helplessness. These, I heard, were supposed to be part of the guards’ tactics for not only destroying us physically, but mentally. The days at the death camp become weeks. The weeks become months. The months became years.
Not only were the days getting darker, but my hope of survival was, as well. What little hope we had came from the opportunity of extra food, which meant a crust of bread or a bit of soup.
One day, I saw that a woman could not get up from her cot. Knowing that she would face the repercussions of not working that morning, I tried to coax her out of bed.
“Come on, please, you have to get up. What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I-I can’t.” She said, in a shaky voice.
At that moment, the guard of our block came over.
“You, girl! Get back to work!” He bellowed at me.
I soon ran off, while the guard kicked the woman and threatened to shoot her. We toiled in the fields all day, with only scraps of potatoes and thin soup for a midday meal. The hunger pervasively gnawed at my stomach. Oftentimes my mother would give her rations to me and my brother. She starved herself just so we could have a bit more to eat. As time passed, she grew more sickly and wan. The crematorium smelled of burning flesh and the stench of smoke that night.
We were abruptly woken up from the barracks by a guard, saying he needed to recruit prisoners who spoke English for a special unit. I was enticed into this offer with the prospect of extra food: one gram of sugar per day! I had learned English in school for around four years, and was the most fluent out of all my family. We worked an extra hour a day, mostly translating documents. One of my first assignments was to collect valuables—everything from pocket-watches to gold teeth—from the dead before they were burned or buried. Once the day ended, I realized that I was not at the work grounds with my mother and brother.
“Where were you?” Asked my mother frantically, “I thought you were hurt! What did the guards do to you?” Her eyes searched my face wildly and she laid her hands on my face.
“Nothing, I’m fine.” I replied. “Look! I got sugar and some bread!”
“Where did you get that? Did you steal it? You could be killed for doing such a thing!”
“No, no! The guards need prisoners who speak English to translate documents and get valuables from the dead.”
“So now you are dishonoring our ancestors. You have no idea what this means!”
“I thought you would be happy. I’m doing this so that we can eat!”
“I-I know…” Her voice trailed off and she started crying.
“No, mother, don’t cry. I’m sorry.”
“No. It’s nothing; go on, I’m just worried.”
Mother soon drifted off into an uneasy rest. It has been long since she has been able to sleep. Thoughts cloud my head with how we may survive, but I eventually succumbed to the darkness of the night myself. As the day dawned, I realized that Adam was the first to get up in our block.
“Hey,” I called out for him, “What are you doing up so early?”
“I’ve just been thinking. I’m just worried about mom. Elisabeth, she grows weaker every day… What if she has to be sent to the hospital block? You know what will happen: people die there.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine. She’s strong; she’ll pull through.” I reassured him, putting my hand on his shoulder.
“I hope you’re right.”

HOPE SPRINGS ETERNAL:
Our conversation was broken by a shrill scream in the air. We ran back to where the rest of the people in our block were. Oh, cruel capitulator! The guard of our block pinned down my mother on the ground and struck down a club on her back. She coughed up blood as the blows came down relentlessly. As other people stood and watched in silence, I ran to protect her and shielded her with my body. I felt the crack of the guard’s club on my back before I heard it. Pain shot through my body, and she kicked me off. The guards kept beating her long after she was dead, and we could do nothing to stop the carnage.
Adam led me back inside our block and I fell into his arms and vented my grief and frustration. My knees buckled underneath me. I look to the heavens and clasped my hand together. Mother did not deserve to die. I didn’t want her to die. Why did she have to die? Life is everything, but Death is nothing. Everything in between is the deprivation of all humanity, and I have borne witness to this deprivation.
I let her die without so much as a word of comfort. I let her fall into the embrace of Death, who has taken so many men, women, and children. Death, who is insatiable in His fervorous search for humanity and innocence. So much so, that He is willing to take it from the hands and hearts of the innocents.
By sunset, I calmed down, and decided to go to bed. I found a folded, ripped-out piece of paper on my cot. It was a letter from my mother. I told Adam, and we read it together:

Dearest Children,

I fear that my health is deteriorating to the extent by which I will not be able to work much longer, certainly not up to the guards’ standards. What little food I have goes to you. I’m sorry I could not have given you more. When I fall to the regime —and I will fall to the regime— my only wish is that both of you will find a way to survive. Never forget what you went through here, because forgetting is the worst kind of treason one can do to others. Above all, know that I will love you, always and forever.

— Mother


Always and forever. That sentence reverberated in my mind. The last thing she ever wrote. I must not fall as she did. I must continue her journey and remember her creed. I must have hope.
We mustn’t let the guards see this sacred letter. We must destroy it: our last, living memory of her.
Another day dawned on us and we got to work. This time, our job was different: we have to clean up the fields that were strewn with pieces of glass and small bits of paper. I find a glass bottle and put it in the pocket of my dressing gown when the guards are not watching. After the day ends, and the guards are stationed, Adam snook quietly into a guard’s residence and stole a box of matches.
“We have to burn mom’s letter,” Adam murmured to me.
“I know. I have an idea. Wait here.”

MONSTERS IN THE NIGHT:
I struck a match and lit the rolled-up piece of paper, slipping it into the glass bottle I found earlier. Adam and I are nearly outside our block. I felt a hunger that was insatiable, but not from the dire lack of food. I felt a hunger for revenge. I am coming for the monster that first laid a hand on my mother. They turned her into a nightmare, mutilated and broken, so I’m going to be theirs, I thought. I flung the bottle at the guard of our block, watching as he burned like a ragdoll in a bonfire. His screaming shred the silent blue sky.
“Elisabeth… what have you done?” Adam said, almost hysterically.
“I—He killed our mother!”
“You turned her letter into a death trap; we were just going to burn it, not kill someone in the process. What were you thinking?” His voice grew in strength “You’re going to be executed.”
“I don’t care; I won’t survive here anyway.”
He walked off, shaking his head. I lay down on my cot, trying to drown out the noise and memories of mother. In the morning, the other guards screeched at us, saying that no one will get their rations if the person who killed the guard of our block doesn’t walk forward. We are made to stand for an hour or so after nobody comes forward. One of the guards, his voice booming over a loudspeaker, says everyone left will be interrogated until they find the culprit. Afternoon comes, and guards ran into our block, dragging away unsuspecting victims to be interrogated.
I see: The guard that I killed. He is being carted away, gasping, coughing up clots of his burnt, blackened lungs. He has sustained several burns to his face and chest. He will die in the infirmary. He will be martyred by his people.
I hear: My mother. Screaming, yet her voice is seraphic. It is ubiquitous: it is in the songs of birds, and the wind as it chills the camp in winter.
I smell: The smoke from the crematoriums. Burning. Blistering.
I have found comfort in the darkness and the silence, because they are the only constants in my life, the only things that will never leave me. It was foolish to think that love would overcome fear and corruption.
Days passed and the interrogations continued. Soon enough, Adam and I were two of the last to be taken. He went first, reluctantly.
Adam came back with several deep cuts in his forearm, as if his arm was pressed against a knife. He almost collapsed in exhaustion and I put my arm over him, supporting him as we sit together on a cot. He clutched his knees to his chest and slowly rocked back in forth.
“What happened? What did they do to you?” I asked, frantically.
“I confessed to them,” He replied, in a shaky a voice.
“You—What?” My voice almost raised to a screech as I tried to gather a motive, a reason, anything that might tell my why he risked dying for me.
“They think I might have conspired with others. Including you. They see us together a lot so it would be a logical next step, naturally.” He said, gently.
“Adam! You know they won’t be harder me. I-I was a translator for them.”
“You… “ His voice broke off, leaving naught but a trail of tears. It resumes. “I’m sorry. I should have known that’s why you weren’t afraid. But everything will change after this.”
“I know,” I replied, pulling him into my arms.

PHOENIX:
I was the last to be taken. I complied to their orders, making them think that I was innocent, but I must not fall out of their favor. One of the guards takes me into a dark room with beige-colored walls. He asked me if I killed the guard, calmly at first.
Did you kill him? No.
Do you know who killed him? No.
He sensed that I was bluffing, and asked again; this time, in a more threatening manner. Once more, I tell him no. His voice rose to a scream and he threw me against the wall, screeching that if I don’t tell him the truth, he will kill me. He reaches for me again, and suddenly, I was hurled into the wall; my breathing became labored as it became harder to draw in air. With every breath, my chest constricted. I felt a sharp pain shoot up my spine and into my head. I blinked away tears while darkness crept into the corners of my eyes and threatened to shroud my soul from the light of vigilance and humanity. Knowing that he would not get an answer from me this way, he took me over to another room; this time, it had a large tank, and a few gallon jugs of water next to it. He shoved me against a board, strapped me onto it, and filled the tank with water. I wanted to scream, to gasp for air, to beg, but I couldn’t.
One.
My thoughts turn to my mother. Even as she lay in the field, weakened by the corrupt forces of our aggressors, she was stronger than the hatred around her.
Two.
My brother. He cared for me so much, and now, he has been blamed for my mistake. From that same, dark inferno that my mother died in, he has risen like a phoenix from the flames. Like that mythical creature, he will sacrifice himself to become the blood and ashes that feed this cyclical cycle of suffering.
Suddenly, it seemed alright that my father died before I was born, as he was saved from this such tragedy. He may never have met me, but also never met his end in a death camp.
Three.
The sight of the guard I killed is etched into my mind.
Four.
Water fills my throat, my lungs, my thoughts.
Five.
All I can think about is the immense pressure of the water that surrounds me.
Six.
The silence is immolating.
Seven.
There is no silence anymore. There is only the screaming of the guard when I killed him.
There is no darkness anymore. There is only water. Everywhere.
There is no hope anymore.
There is only death.
Eight.
With a jolt, I am pulled out of the tank, and I gasp for air.
Finally, he gives in, telling me to go back to the block, as I am still shivering.

LUMINA:
When I got back, Adam was already waiting for me. He covered me with a thin blanket and asks, “Are you hurt?” No. I lie to him.
“The guards told me I am going to be executed tomorrow.” He said, his voice shaking.
“Oh.” I said, for I am shocked into silence.
The moon rises in the sky. I often looked up and wondered if the guards saw the moon the same way I did. Beautiful, scintillating, grand in its existence. It made everything and everyone that ever gazed upon its grandeur seem small by comparison. Never had such beauty graced my sight as when I looked upon the moon.
Hours have passed, and the sun begins to rise. I knew then that the familial love that arose from my flight of fury was sacrifice. Finally, I turned to Adam.
“Stay,” I begged him, grasping his hand with both of mine.
He shook his head, gave me a sad smile, and pulled me into his chest.
“Forgive me.” I said.
“I always have, so, please forgive yourself.” He replied, caressing my face.
“Always.” He says, after a while. I think of mother’s letter.
“And forever.”
How terrible it is to love something that Death can touch.

PHOENIX REBORN:

The next morning, as visions of the chaotic night before still rang in my head, the guards took me and Adam to a room even before the rations were given out.

My heart skipped a beat. The same room that I drowned in. This was going to be my brother’s end.

Before I knew it, I was sitting in a chair, hands tied between my back.

“You see what you did? You see what the consequences are, you dirty, lying pig?!” one guard screams into my brother’s face
“And you! You will watch your family suffer so that you too may suffer. Keep your eyes fixed on him or I will beat you to a pulp.” He tapped a cane on the palm of his hand

Two more guards appeared, one with a sword…
Oh God… What have I done…?
The guards proceeded to plunge the sword into Adam’s head and he screamed and screamed and didn’t stop and no No I must keep watching but I can’t and I don’t... know whether it’s him or me screaming and crying out the blows just kept raining down on my back Crack Crack Crack after Crack and it hurt but it hurt more to look up because all I see is red Everything red but I kept my head down and he was already gone Gone but still there nothing more than a corpse another corpse to be thrown into the flames and he’ll never know how much I regretted not taking the blame and he’ll never know how much I love him but nothing will be known as long as this horrible nightmare will not be known Even though I looked up and saw the guards I can’t help but wonder why everyone looked so mutilated themselves and so broken but they keep moving on but they keep moving backwards Back into history Never to learn from their mistakes but I wouldn’t learn from my own mistakes but Yes I will and I will and Yes I will and I will Yes I will But I can’t until…

Until it all ends.

ULTIMATUM:

Now I know what this terrible thing that has been inflicted on us is; all along, it wasn’t the guards’ persecution of us, it wasn’t the gas chambers, the gunfire, the starvation, the torture. It was humanity at its darkest time. It was people being broken down to their darkest selves, killing each other blindly for their own gain.
Everything sacred to me has been slaughtered at the hands of those determined to wage war with our spirits and souls, but they will not prevail.

They have tried, so many times, to destroy our faith in humanity, but they will not prevail.



Whew! That was quite long wasn't it? Well, I do hope you all enjoyed it. Please feel free to tell me what you think.
Lady Name: Trinity Starling
ID: 5498311


Image

For this post the author Trinity Starling thanked: 5
ClaudiaM25 (28 Nov 2018, 12:13) • Czarina (16 Nov 2018, 11:46) • Gaia (18 Nov 2018, 03:06) • Red Queen (28 Nov 2018, 12:41) • Wax Storm (28 Nov 2018, 16:57)
Rating: 6.02%
 
User avatar
Trinity Starling
Senior Member
Senior Member
 
Posts: 240
Joined: 22 Jun 2018, 22:42
Location: Earth. Several billion years from the beginning.
Has thanked: 50 times
Have thanks: 321 times
National Flag:
United States

Next

Return to Forum Diaries

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 1 guest