This Isn't an Original Story
This Isn't an Original Story vent stories

winloor Think of something meaningful to say
Autoplay OFF   •   a month ago
Loyalty is my biggest strength and my biggest weakness.

This Isn't an Original Story

This isn't an original story.

These words aren't my own.

Nor these thoughts.

This story's been told over time.

By each and every individual that has experienced it.

But each story has a different ending.

That ending they chose.

They decided upon.

They acted upon.

And ended their story.

Whether that be a joyful or somber ending.

It ended somehow.

This isn't an original story.

This girl's story isn't original.

But I'll be damned if she isn't unique.

In all her strengths and flaws.

And she'll be damned if she didn't make her ending her own.

Despite if its been told ages ago.

A puppet on a string.

You can pull and push her.

Make her dance a little dance.

With a wide smile on her face.

And when you're done, drop her on the floor.

To wallow in her own choice that she's in this position.

She made this choice, and she's still making it.

She allows them to pick back up her strings and force her to dance.

Until her legs have melted and her heart has burst.

Liquid glass pouring down her face.

Regretting all she had done to come to this point.

But she continues it to help those who need the escape.

And she'll smile.

A toy soldier.

Their only job to protect.

Marching side by side.

In front.

Or behind their protectee.

She fights to protect them.

To help them when they're wounded.

To snap them out of it when they're unreasonable.





She'll even slap them out of it if they need it.

Even if shes unreasonable herself.

A good little soldier.

Only there to serve and protect.

Until shes shot in the back by the very person she protected.

This exterior shell.




Maybe even a little egotistical.

It protects her.

And hurts her.

Her own Iron Maiden.


But stabs her if she moves too freely.

This is her.

This is not her.

Her own protector wouldn't hurt her.

But it does.


If you melt this coffin.

Before she puts the last nail in it to seal her fate.

You get her other side.

Her truer side.

The one that is unreasonable

The one that is afraid.

The one that is angry.

The one that is uncomfortable.

The one that is sad.

The one that feels.

Shy and unsure about the world around her.

More vulnerable than a newborn.

She doesn't want to show this.

But some she allows to see.

Because she trusts.

She trusts them.

And they allow her to be the most vulnerable she's ever been.

And its the most alive shes ever felt.

Both her exterior and her interior are her.

Neither more than the other.

But they will remain separate.

Until she finds the okay to put herself back together.

Make herself whole.

But until then.

She will continue to be both with those she trusts.

Though they may be separate even then.

It's the closest she'll be to being truly her.

Even then.

There's the possibility that she won't be able to put herself back together.

Maybe it's not her job.

Maybe it never was.

It's their job.

To fervently search for the shards.

And gently put them back together.

With their help.

She'll be her again.

And she'll finally make her own ending.

To her own story.

This isn't an original story.

But she's an original girl.

Her words are her own.

So are her thoughts.

Her story will be told to her children and grandchildren.

To their children and grandchildren.

Because they're apart of her ending.

The ending of her story.

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