Her Pain || Her Scars || Her Life

The Chronicles of EveryWoman



I wake up, change into my jogging kit and walk out of the house. I continue down the path leading to the gate and walk out. I stand still. I’m shivering – it’s expected. After all, it is only four o’ clock in the morning. I sigh and look ahead of me. I turn left and continue to walk down the road.

Frost is covering the green lawn of the houses I walk past. Big, elaborate houses that shelter elegant families. Houses that contain their pride, joy, and dirty secrets. I laugh as I think of my house. To outsiders – and even those who have been inside- it’s a house that exudes wealth, elegance and a much-envied opulent lifestyle.

To me, that house is hell. Every room holds more pain than joy; more misery than happiness; more disappointment than celebration. Of course we’ve had celebrations there – parties…

View original post 1,197 more words


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s