Rising Phoenix

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ll. The cold, damp walls surrounded me a

breathing. My hands were tightly bound when I attempted to move them to feel around. My legs were tightly bound as well, just as I remembered. My breathing becomes erratic. I don't want to be here

tely tried to gather my thoughts a

rdeal. But never once did anyone come to my rescue; no one came to help me get out of this hell. My tormentor continued t

keep myself from panicking. I focused on regulating my breath, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, in an attempt to c

strained my ears to hear more, and gradually the sound became clearer. It was

ng that someone would he

e to rescue me. But no one responded. I repeated my plea for help several times, but there was still

of a large-framed man, giving off an ominous vibe. I couldn't make out many features, and that made me even more fearful. My heart races as he approaches me, and I try to move away from him, but the ropes r

is grip. The fear and terror I experi

resence suffocating and menacing. He has come to inflict pain on me that is far worse than

spered in a low, menacing v

left my throat involuntary from the fear; my body wa

Reminding me every day what the hell looks like on this earth. I may have freed myself from those demons, but every day, the demons that reside within m

eir actions on the victim's soul. They suffer their whole lives; they fight their whole lives with the

them from the trauma inflicted upon them. A person who has experienced such horrors will carry the we

eart out, letting out all my fears, trauma, and sadness. After some time, I manage to compose myself and remind myself that it'

till dark outside. I faced the clock on my

be able to go back to sleep. This had become a routine for me—waking up in the

myself a cup of tea to soothe my nerves, b

leased from prison for a crime I didn't commit. Thi

he world, despite being physically present. I became a quiet person after the deaths of my pa

the darkness. The city was quiet, with only a few cars on the

******************************

ated window. I am reminded of that night when my b

feel a deep sense

, which I bought myself, on the spot where she was found. White roses were her favor

nds me, I can't help but feel a

was the only person with whom I could share my thoughts and sec

sed of her murder. The only thought of harming her brough

they even turned me into the

y murdered a person and sn

in my sorrow and guilt. I didn't notice when they framed me and accused me of her murder. I was brought back to my senses when I was shift

the kind of special treatment anyone would ever dr

n serving time for a crime I had not committed.

I felt a presence beside me like she was with me

a gentle smile on her face as if she were trying to

he presence of my departed best friend provide

rest until I make every person suffer for the sin they comm

oor beneath me, tears streaming down my face, pr