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Book online «The Darker Side of Life - Kaitlin Chenoa Humphries (little red riding hood read aloud .TXT) 📗». Author Kaitlin Chenoa Humphries



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pushed her so deep
in darkness she hid
till death will become her keep.


Hurt



Years ago
You ruined my life
You took away my childhood.

You were supposed to be there
To care for us when they were gone
But you used the time for wrong.

You touched me
You never got far
Only moved so much.

The memory
It still gives me nightmares
I was forced to grow up so quick.

I hid it
The things you did
Till you had moved
And we could do nothing.

So now no justice will ever come
And so my childhood will forever be gone.

I don't remember your face,
I don't remember your name
All I'll remember is the fear and the game


Field of Flowers



She sits in a field of flowers
butterflies flying past
the smell is absolutely tranquil
and she's at peace.

But then she is shaken awake
stares with fear into blood shot eyes
as a fist is raised
she cringes as it makes contact with her skin.

She falls from the bed
a cry torn from her lips
she didn't understand what she had done
until he approached her and she smelled the rum.

He had drunk himself
into a drunken rage
and so she quivered
as he began again.

He tossed her down the stairs quite hard
broke her back and so she screamed
the pain worse then she could bear.

The hospital was like a dream
but no one knew the secret pain
as he faked his surprise and concern
pretending he was at work when she had "fallen"

The nurse she did not believe him
yet feigned relief that he was there
silently the months went on
and he grew angrier with each day she wasn't home
and three months after her horrible "Fall"
he dragged her out and back home
didn't care of her pain at all.

He was cruel
called her a gimp
for she could barely move
called her an unwanted burden
tore her hopes to shreds
he cheated
he laughed
he didn't care.

But then she ran
far away
changed her name
her hair
and so as long as she is cautious
she sits in a field of flowers
safe as she regains mobility and strength.


Soldier Lost



She lays her head down to sleep
yet dreams do not invade
instead a deep darkness comes to stay.

When she wakes up
she feels as if no sleep has come
yet she can't return to slumber
the day has just begun.

Breakfast at first was no wonder
but then a man came to her door
dressed in uniform an envelope in his hand
she shook as she took it from the man.

Scared as she opened it
she knew the worse had come
her beloved soldier
was not coming home.

Tears fall from her eyes
as his casket is brought down the aisle
family friends and soldiers there
it was somthing she had not imagined for a while.

Now her soldier slept in deep slumber
slowly lowered into the ground
taps is played from trumpet
and shots are fired as he goes to rest.

Home she goes clutching the medals and flag given to her
home she goes to an empty bed and house
home without the man she had loved.


Dark Vortex



A girl she sits
shackled to a dark vortex
slowly her strength is waning
he hope is losing.

She used to struggle
wait for the day to escape
hope for the light that had been lost
but now she sits
losing all hope.

But the light she has been waiting for
the escape she had so needed
finally has come.

The chains they fall away
but the vortex try's to make her stay
it bruises her
abuses her
to try and chain her again.

But she keeps walking towards the light
and as her foot hits it
a bang is heard.
She falls her hand clutching her chest
as she pulls her hand away
she sees it stained red with blood
and slowly as she dies
she reaches for the light.

The vortex it approaches her
a gun gleams in the light
yet she is no longer shackled
but she had not reached the light
so she lays dead
with unseeing sight.


Destroyed



She screams as he ties her
She begs as he strips her
She wanted nothing more then to escape
She wanted nothing more then to get away.

He laughs at her attempts
Grins as she begs him to stop
His hands wanders
Where they were not supposed to be.

She screams more
Struggls futily
She can't move
as he gags her to keep her quiet.

More then anything she wants away
As he destroys her dearest treasure
The thing she has been saving for that special person.

She cries in fear
she cries in pain
she cries in loss.

When he is done
He forces her kiss
Then leaves her bloody and tied.

For the rest of her life
She walks with scars
Unable to do anything else
For fear now rules her life.


The Portrait of a Killer



The brush slides across the canvas
dark red blood dripping as the artist puts his final touch
he had worked on this masterpeice for many weeks
and only now had he found the right color to finish it off.

Stepping away he lets out a cackle of happiness
his art work now complete
he turns to smile at the woman tied with his sheet
"Beautiful isn't it?" he asked dipping his brush in the pool of blood beneath her.

The woman whimpers softly in response
as she stares at a portrait of herself
tied against her own will
bloody and beaten
with a dark figure near her
no face to match it to
just as there was no face to match to the artist.

The artist laughed again and ran a finger along her skin
"That was the perfect color to finish off my portrait" he whispered
she shrank away as a nail dug into her numb skin.

The artist grins and turns looking at the painting he had completed
the dark form mimicking his own
his masterpeice showing his own psychotic heart.

Now the painting hangs in a museum
The title exactly what it was
"The portrait of a killer"
yet no one knew the inspiration
of such a beloved peice of art.


Mans Cruelty: Her Killer



Small hands reach up to grab his finger
but he pulls from her in disgust
the rapist, the murderer, father of the angel
stares down at her with hate.

What right did the woman he abused
have to bring his child into the world?
What right did the little whore have
to not kill the tell tale sign of his mis deed?

The very sight of this child,
this begotten bastard of his rape
his show of a true mans power,
made him sick to his very core.

The thought of the bastard child
and the whore mother whose innocence he stole
drove him crazy with rage
and he knew neither could live.

With one swift move
the child
the proof of his deed was dead
no prints left, not a single hair
he'd come prepared.

The gasp and wail of the whores pain
for the loss of such a menace
made blood with anger rush through his veins.
Turning for his attack
he slammed her back.
Took her once more against her will
his whore, the girl who could have been his end.

He showed her his power
the strength of men
till she was broken
and fell still, no longer struggling.

He grinned with power
grabbed up her hair
asked her who she was.

She was his
his whore
his toy.

Then looking at her with clear disgust
he tossed her down
stepped and crushed her pipe
whore she was he would not have
but be her an example
of a mans power
cruelty
and lost.


Broken



In your eyes I see it
how much you could care less
the promise you had given
now laying broken in my hand.

The bruise that had broken it
rested solely on my cheek
the promise of never raising a hand
now nothing more than empty words.

It started as a simple fight
then turned into one of our worst...
I don't really know how it happened
what I did to deserve your words
and the back of your hand upon my cheek.

The tears they escaped my eyes
ones of despair, betrayal and pain.
Nothing you could do could fix my life
the way I viewed the world
nor the way I could not stop my cries.

The promise you had broken
was more important than your promise of marriage
the promise to never hurt me
like the others before had so readily done.

And so with broken promises
I cry into my arms
as you stand there watching without caring
your eyes now the hardest glass.

So the promise lays in my palm
broken into a million pieces
with no way to change things back.


Dear Brother Why?


I sat in bed
a teddy bear tight in my hand
already I had my ears plugged
mother and brother at it again.

He used to be better than he was now
sweeter, gentler, and kinder.
But now they had all grown apart
he turned to drugs
to booze and girls
to friends who didn't even care.

When he came home
our mother would inquire
and drunk he would yell and hurt.

Scared I'd run to my own room
to hide with my teddy bear
trying to pretend this all was never happening.

But tonight was odd
he was worse then before
and had thrown our mother into a wall.

He'd advanced on me
but of course our mother jumped in the way.
I ran off scared to hide in my room
to look back watching him throw her so hard
her head it the table with a sickening thud.

The blank look that washed over her face
made me run for the safety of my room,
my sanctuary.

Later of course I'd find she'd only passed out
but the only thing entering my head
was she was dead.

When I heard my brothers feet stomping up the stairs
I ran from my bed to my closet
hoping to hide better there.

My door of course it creeked
to let me know he'd come through
and I heard him call my name
as I tried to keep quiet to avoid the abuse.

But yet my fear had betrayed me
a doll making noise beneath me
and my closet was opened he dragged me out...

The beating made me pass out.
I can't tell much more I don't remember it.
I remember waking in my bed
I couldn't move I hurt all over
my mother leaned over with worry.

My brother to the side sober for now
watching with intense and shamed eyes.
Yet still he held a bottle in his hands
my mother of course had said nothing
having given up 2 nights ago when he hurt us both.

Yes... 2 nights I'd been out
2 nights of no memory.
Brother why...
why become somthing you weren't.
Brother why...
why drink when you know you hurt us?

And brother why...
drink more when I see the pain
as

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