흑막을 버리는 데 실패했다 Novels & Stories

Carina closed her eyes and fought with despair, fatigue to the bone. She sat in an old yellow Volkswagon with the windows rolled up and Prince's music blasting on her radio. The bank parking lot was now empty as five minutes turned into an hour and was still ticking. She stared out of her windshield and fought back the bitter taste of defeat and disappointment that corroded her stomach like acid. No loan. Once again.

I looked down at my arms. Veins glowing faintly. Not gold. But black. “She left a mark.” And this time, I didn’t think I could burn it away.

It appeared like every bit of my strength had dried up, trying to achieve and get a hold of that something called Flow. Unfortunately, I still wasn't able to do that. I just couldn't. Even when Ezekiel had given me many pointers and taught me thoroughly, I still failed in the end. I was frustrated by the fact that I could only see very little progress. If anything, I was only able to minimize the explosion. That said, not only my face, but my entire body was now charcoal black. My clothes were torn and ragged and I appeared like a homeless beggar on the street. I was afraid that no one would definitely like me anymore with this current appearance of mine.

The pallor of her skin mirrored the lingering fatigue that weighed on her. Concern etched across her face, Ava contemplated the reflection before her. Her initial decision to leave her face bare now seemed insufficient to conceal the toll her health had taken. Determined to regain a semblance of normalcy, she reached for a small makeup kit. With careful, deliberate motions, Ava applied a touch of makeup to her face. The foundation aimed to mask the paleness, and a hint of color adorned her cheeks. Her eyes, once bright, now bore the shadows of exhaustion. As she completed the modest transformation, Ava's gaze lingered on the mirror, a mixture of determination and uncertainty playing across h

Tears run down my cheeks, and I hold my head in my hands as ruthless images haunt me. Why did grandma have to leave? She's not here to hold me and wipe away my sorrows. I'll always have this heavy darkness in my heart, and it will eat away everything I have in me. *** Henry was right about the paint staining. My face, neck, and hands are still tinted red. I take another shower, scrubbing and scrubbing at my skin, hoping it’ll go away. By the time I step out, my skin is raw and sore. However, the red tint didn't fade, not even a little bit.

I stared at my muddled reflection on the dark screen of the TV that sat on the wall in the living room. Even on such a dark surface, my pale skin and even whiter hair were noticeable. I looked at my mom, how did I go about trying to convince her that I didn’t do this to myself? How? When I first noticed the change and who it reminded me of, I tried everything. Every skin care, every hair dye, nothing worked, I couldn’t change it, I couldn’t hide it. My very appearance was a daily reminder of the evil witch that destroyed my life.

, Amelia looked at herself, nothing changed in her appearance, she was the same ad before. Faiz was excited but then it triggered it, she couldn't believe the method failed. " Looks like it failed. I was so excited, all my excrement was for nothing I guess. Argh! ". Amelia wasn't hoping for anything, but even she was disappointed, just when she thought she was about to become normal, her hopes went crashing. " I told you, nothing works on me. We should leave my matter on its fate now, it's better than being disappointed every time ", Said Amelia, her eyes sad.

With the intention of giving it a try, Samuel put the black thing into his mouth, and then his facial features quickly twisted together. The smell of this thing was terrible. Shaking his head, Samuel's first time completely failed. However, Samuel was not someone who would admit defeat easily. He took out the materials again and began to make it again according to the previous method. By midnight, the moon was already hanging in the air.

I leave my damp hair down so it can air-dry. When I'm done, I look at myself in the mirror, noticing the dark circles under my eyes. My usually vibrant blue irises don't even look blue anymore. My eyes look like someone placed a toner in them to fade the color, and my skin is blotchy. The glow I had from the facials I did at the spa with Lorelai only days ago is gone. In a nutshell, I look like shit dragged in from the highway. But at least I'm alive and still have my virginity intact.

Here, I had a thin mattress that made my back ache and a window that looked out at a brick wall. I walked over to the mirror. It was small and had a crack running through the middle of it. I touched my face. I was still beautiful. My blonde hair was still bright, and my eyes were still a clear blue. But my skin looked a bit pale. I didn't have my expensive creams anymore. I didn't have my makeup artist. "This is all her fault," I whispered to my reflection.