Scared Of My Own Image Lyrics Novels & Stories

And I had the lives that needed me to save them. That was enough. The evening sun streamed through the clinic windows and fell across me, bathing me in warm golden light. My gaze was steady and bright as I walked step by step toward my own future. Wolfsbane could poison the body, but it could never poison a determined heart. My new life was just beginning. And those who'd looked down on me, who'd hurt me, would be left far behind. All they could do was look up at my light.

I lay down on the ground and rested my head on my bag. "All by myself, alone on a cliff. Dunno if I should turn back now or just jump ... and be free... hoping for the best." I sang. My horrible voice probably scared away some bugs but at least the lyrics were good. I've probably made hundreds of miniature songs. If I was in a movie right now what should this scene be about? Hmmm... yes! A song. I jumped up and opened my arms wide.

Or am I… scared of the fact that I know nothing at all? Ever since I was a little, I can’t deny the fact that I am so self-centered. That… I am so good at not looking through things so much. But… I don’t know why. Just seeing my own reflections makes me be reminded of that. They all look so real. As if… it isn’t just my imagination. This is weird, why am I being weird… “Kianna? Hey, I’ve been calling your name for a while. Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

She then continues. “They aren’t scary themselves. The most fearful thing of all is that they are yours. That you can hear them. That you dreamed of them. You dreamed of something to fear yourself, by letting your mind wander with innocence. Maybe it’s the sharp teeth and beast eyes that bring you chills in the night. Their laughing moans cease you from a peaceful sleep. Or maybe, just maybe, the only reason why you’re scared is that you know what those monsters are. You know the laughter all too well because you remember doing it. You remember the taunting so well that you dreamed about it. You know the cold steel beams because you remember touching them. And you know that scream so well be

Her words from before flew into my mind as I struggled to pull the tug at the left sanity in me. *** "What do you see when you look at yourself in the mirror?" "I don't look in the mirror, love." "Why?" I didn't answer right away; Taking a staggered breath, I lifted my eyes and said, "Because I am scared of what I am going to see." *** The ache only intensified, igniting the wild inferno burning in my chest. I was trapped, in my own head, in my own hell, my own darkness, trapped with no hope of ever being free.

I took a shaky breath and looked away. A bitter chuckle escaped my lips. "I guess I’m just unlucky. I am pathetic." I laughed, but it was hollow, filled with self-loathing. "I’m weak. I’m scared of everything. The dark, enclosed spaces… I’m always hyperventilating. And food?" My voice broke into another bitter laugh. "Who’s scared of eating, Mr. Montgomery? What kind of normal person is scared of food?" I shook my head, tears streaming down my face now. "I’m scared of failing, of losing everything. I’m scared of trusting people again. I’m scared of..." My words trailed off as I lifted my gaze to meet his.

And I am scared, scared of the truth, scared of the real, scared of it all, scared of me, scared of what I know, scared of what I feel, scared of what I know and feel. And Lucas stays, Lucas stays, and I drive, and I drive, and I drive, and I go, and I go, and I go, and Lucas stays. And it is real, and it is real. It is real.

Who looks at me like I matter. “No,” I whisper instantly. Never that. Something emotional flashes across his face so fast it nearly wrecks me. But then I sigh shakily and lean back in my chair. “I’m just scared.” Cole’s voice softens immediately. “Of me?” “No.” That answer comes too fast. Too honest. “I’m scared of losing myself.” Silence. Heavy silence. Because I think he understands exactly what I mean. “I worked really hard to get here,” I admit quietly. “Everything in my life has always depended on me staying focused.”

I shook my head. “I'm not afraid anymore. Trust me, you've enlightened me with your words and now, I don't intend to become an object of ridicule. I seemed not to have let it sink into my skull that at this point, if there's anyone I should trust in, it should be myself and no one else. With this in mind, I have nothing to be afraid of.”

“None of us think you did.” Silence stretches between us, heavy and suffocating. I look down at my hands, at the small scars on my knuckles, and wonder if there will ever be a version of me that feels whole again. My body still aches, but it’s the fear curling tight in my chest that hurts the most. Fear of myself. Fear of what they’re saying. Fear that the next time, I won’t stop. That whatever controls me now will win. “I don’t feel like me anymore,” I whisper.