Twisted Heart: A Crushed Love Novel

Twisted Heart (Part 1)

This is "Crushed Love" by me (PleaseDontCry aka Adele Kiss) Please comment and leave some feedback, because I live for those comments :)

How do you describe pain? The feeling makes you feel like the weight of the whole world is resting on your shoulders and a black, invisible force is crushing you in, piercing your heart, tearing it to broken little pieces so cruelly you have to clutch at yourself to keep your body together? Which words in all languages of this vast universe can describe that single feeling?

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Isabella

Every day, in the morning I spend an hour trying to make myself more beautiful. My hair that is so unruly in the morning has to be long and sleek. My eyes, that always have dark circles under them, due to long nights of partying, need to appear awake and shining. My lips that are chapped from dehydration need to be glossy and smooth.

After all, one has to keep up appearances. If the inside is broken and twisted, the outside has to be pretty enough to make up for it. That is what my mother has always told me.

So every single day I have to look my best, so that when my mother, burning in the deepest pits of hell, looks up at me, she'll know that I am just like her.

A soul of no depth.

The funny thing is that I no longer even feel. I am simply a machine. I no longer feel the guilt that should be crushing me right now, the guilt I know that is crushing the sister who should not be bearing it. I don't care about the things that I have done. I live in the now. Because, I know, if I ever glanced back, the devil that had been following me so close, breathing into my ear, would crush all the willpower I have left. The willpower I still need to survive.

The people surround me like flies. They say fake words of sympathy, admiration and friendship. They coo over my clothes, bags, and shoes. They are all the same, so transparent. They don't like me, my character, or my personality. They only like the things I have which they haven't. My money, my looks, my popularity, everything. I can't stand this sort of people, but I sort of agree. I wouldn't like me either, if I were them. So I laugh at their fake jokes, join in their meaningless gossip, and agree with their mediocre opinions. Deep down I don't care, at all.

I only care about him. Isn't that stupid and clichéd? For any girl, there's always a him.

His name is Taylor Wright, a twenty-year-old trainee doctor, the new replacement for our old student teacher. We all thought he would be the typical boring nerd - you know what I mean, bad hair-cut, glasses, acne, the works - but he was so different. The moment I saw him, I knew. He was the one.

He wasn't the most attractive guy I'd ever seen, or something stupid like that. He was just...so...so...different. He had a face as open and trusting as a flower. I would normally hate that - I hated all naive people with an idiotic, optimistic, sunshine filled world, but this time it was different. Sure, I resent that naive part of him, but it just makes him special enough to attract my attention.

The thing I loved the most about him were his eyes, a deep chocolate brown, wide and innocent like a child's. His lashes were so long that when he leaned away from the sun, it makes this long shadow, only slightly bent by his cheekbones, which cut across his face. But the emotion I saw in those eyes was what made me fall so hard. They had this loving air about them, kind and warm. Looking at his eyes, at the feeling in them made my old scars hurt again. They reminded me so much about her eyes and the innocent, naive emotion that always filled them. The emotion that always made me so angry that I wanted to hurt her. But after seeing her eyes, cold and empty, I want to cry. It was me who made her look like that. I cannot let anyone do the same thing to him.