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Jul 2019 · 754
America Without Abuse.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
Every 9 seconds a women is beaten in he U.S. Every minute 20 people are victims of Intimate Partner Violence. Every day 38,028,000 women are murdered by male partners in the U.S. Every year 1,300 people die because of abuse. This is inhuman and should stop. Abuse is heartbreaking to me. Nobody in this universe has the right to abuse someone or something else. Abuse is incredibly wrong. It has not only led people into depression, but it has also led them into suicide. Abuse is a very sensitive topic to write about. We hear about people getting abused and half the people ignore it but not me. I take it serious because it should not be happening. It not only destroys its victims, but it also destroys the victim's friends and family. It is n no way fair to abuse. With the situation of abuse in the world I think we should do away with it in America. When that day comes, we will see the difference.
     Abuse is serious and should not be taken for granted. If abuse hasn't killed its victim, it's well on the way to. It has killed so many people. It has led the survivors into a unimaginable depression. Barely anyone has survived from abuse. The depression gets worse after a while. People can't stand the intense depression but for so long. They don't trust anyone after being abused, so they keep their feelings in. The fight is so hard they commit suicide to get away. This decreases our population even more, and it's still happening today. This is not right.
       The abusers find everything fine and right in their world, but in the real world it's not. It is not fair to abuse anybody or anything in this universe. Yea, things could be going good for the abuser, but not for the abused. The abused feel horrible about themselves, but the abuser is happy which is not fair. The abuser also has no right to abuse. No one gave them the right to abuse people. No one has the right to abuse at all. The abuser should feel terrible about themselves for hurting so many people. When they hurt one they hurt several. People try to help the abused, but they don't listen. Abuse is destroying this world.
           Abuse destroys so many things. It has destroyed many people. The people it's destroyed, it has also destroyed their friends and family. Imagine, this little girl that the family and friends love gets beat to death. The family and friends find out and are crushed. They never stop grieving and soon become very depressed. Some commit suicide, others live a painful life. The family got torn apart, and nothing was he same again. In different cases this has happened. The friends and family of the victims can't seem to be happy after this has happened. They stay to themselves, and never talk about it again. Nothing would ever be the same.
           Every 9 seconds. Every minute. Every day. Every year. At least 38,028,000 people suffer from abuse. This is so inhuman. It hasn't stopped. It is so heartbreaking to know all this is happening. The world needs to change. Abuse needs to stop. It has led people into pain. People have died because of abuse. So, with this in mind, abuse needs to stop here in America. The America i believe in is one without abuse. When it changes we will see the change in humanity.
This is a very old essay I wrote about 4 to 6 years ago. Sorry for not having as proper as normal. :)
Jul 2019 · 160
Quote 16.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
In the darkest nights they won't see you, in the darkest nights you shall be triumpth.
Jul 2019 · 168
Quote 15.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
Light burns through you like a burning flame, you can see it no matter what, even if you try to hide it.
Jul 2019 · 130
Quote 14.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
I'm falling away.
I can't see your face.
For now I lay.
Upon the day.
Trying to get you to stay away.
Jul 2019 · 152
Quote 13.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
Silence in the night.
Quiet little candles shine their light.
They always wait in fright.
That one night...
The night may bite.
Jul 2019 · 134
Quote 12.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
I lost my light.
Someone told me I wasn't worth it.
I believe them.
Now, I'm gone.
I'm falling forever.
This was originally written in Spanish. I wrote this for a Spanish Class.
Jul 2019 · 198
Slip Away
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
Her days as a child started to slip away.
That's when the childish games begin to slip away.
New games began to get played.
She was now a target.
She was being played with.
She began to slip away.
Slip away from the innocent child.
The child is no longer there.
She has slipped away.
She is beginning to find ways to slip away.
The blades begin to slip on her wrists.
Her appetite begins to slip away.
Her sight is now starting to slip away.
As her last breath slips away....
She begins to finally slip away.
Slip away from all the games.
Jul 2019 · 104
His Kisses.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
His kisses are like bees stinging at you.
So desperate.
So blood hungry.
He wouldn't let go.
He wouldn't stop until he knew it was too late.
He had already violated me.
He trapped me and there was no escape.
He tried to torture me and make me feel so alone.
He made me feel useless.
I couldn't be set free from all the torture.
He captured me and I was under his will.
Jul 2019 · 96
Untitled
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
I haven’t felt alright for a long while. I can’t seem to have anything go right anymore. I don’t know how I feel about life anymore. I know that I feel like I don’t belong here. That’s not my fault. Blame the people who have caused this. I feel like I can’t trust anyone anymore. I can’t really tell anyone anything without them going and telling someone else. I can’t really come to the decision to walk out of everyone’s life for good. I’m not strong enough to sit here and never talk to them ever again. I really wish I didn’t get this close to anyone. I ask everyday why i’m the one to end up getting hurt. I guess I just deserve it. I’ve been worrying so much about everything lately. My mom and dad are both going down hill in their health. They don’t deserve it. If anyone does it’s me.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
It all started on that day. Freezing cold wind whizzed against my face. Midnight, great! I’m always alone here. As I make my way home, I hear whispers in the night. Things are strange in this town. I speed up my walking pace, remembering that I haven’t done the homework due first thing in the morning. I rush into my front door, realizing that mom still isn’t home. My father left us when I was born, or so my mom says. I kinda doubt he is still alive. I never hear from him, but I do hear his voice in my head. Doesn’t really surprise me. I’ve heard voices in my head for a while now. It use to bother me, but now it doesn’t. When I told people they believed I was crazy. You could probably tell that I get bullied. I’ll admit, I’m a freak. Just no one will really understand.
I walk to school like any other day, but today was different. The tension in the air made everything worse. Unfamiliar thoughts were coming through my mind. I still heard the familiar ones, yet this new one stood out. As nervous as ever, I walk into class. All the kids were talking and I was hurrying to my seat. The bell rings and the teacher begins the lesson. Twenty-five minutes into class and there is a knock on the door. It startles me because I didn’t hear that person’s thoughts. The teacher opens the door and I pass out. I’m still semi-conscious and hear the thoughts of all, but one. Strangeness is a weird feeling. I’m waking up and see him standing around me. I look at him, scared of what’s happening. He offers me a hand up. I take it and we both **** away. We give each other a confused look. I get up and gather everything up. We continue on through class. I kept looking over at him. He looked away every time I looked at him. Once, I caught his eye. Sudden chills went down my back. I turned and he was behind me. That’s when I noticed the bell had rung.
He was gazing at me with needy eyes. He asked me where my next class was and I told him. He asked me to show him because he had the same one. The rest of the day went by slowly. Last class finally came. I have only had two classes with the new guy. He seemed different. A good and weird different. Kinda scary even. The whole outlook of him. He looked normal to others, but not me. I saw the differences. He talks like he’s murdered millions. Finally, the bell rings and I pack up my stuff. Like always, I’m the last out of class.
It’s raining when I step outside. I always walk home, so it’s no problem. Walking the way I normally do is the quickest way to my neighborhood. I hear footsteps of children playing, but no one is outside. It’s the sound of splashing puddles and laughter. I speed up not wanting to hear children anymore. I pass the park right before my neighborhood and the swings were swinging. No wind and no children in sight. I run the rest of the way home. I’m inside my door and hear my mother talking to my father. My father’s been dead for years, yet mother still talks to him. I walk to the kitchen after I threw down my stuff in my room upstairs. I grab a snack and talk to mom for a little while. When in my room I hear a knock on the door. Mom yells that my friend is here and sends them up. He’s a vision in black. All his features stood out. Eyes shining like two sapphires. I’m shocked he is here. I never gave him my address. He steps in my room and closes the door making sure it’s locked. He closed the curtains, saying there was too much sun. How did you know I live here, I asked. I simply followed you, he replied, It wasn’t hard to keep up. I know you heard the laughter and saw the swings move. Now, just what are you, he said. I’m just a human. I have no clue why I could hear and see these things. I just know things are strange around here. He came closer to me and placed his hands firmly around me. Entering our embrace was a kiss. I was knocked unconscious. All I feel is him around me.
I slowly wake up. I don’t recognize the place I’m at. He has his hand on mine. He lightly presses a kiss on my forehead and whispers, I’m sorry. I look up to see him with a knife in his hand. I see my mother hanging by her arms. I yell at him to stop. He looks at me and says he can’t. My mother says in reply, do it. I have caused too much pain. It’s time I paid for it. Daughter, you are not normal. You are cursed with the worst gift ever. I’m sorry you have to see this. Find the book and make sure no one knows I was your mother. I never really loved you. Suddenly, the knife struck her heart. She lit into flames. Tears falling down my face, I asked why. He reply was simple, too simple. We heard loud bangs on the door. He gathered me up, lightning fast, and rushed us away. We were hidden and the door was beaten down. It was spirits of the higher world. I didn’t believe it at first. Then, I knew it was true.
His heart was racing. We took off out the back door, but they followed us. I watched them slowly turn into burning demons. I turned to see him gone. I watched him being eaten alive and he forced me to run. I ran as fast as possible, but it wasn’t enough. My foot got caught. Then, I saw him again. He grabbed me up and took off running. I’m ripped out of his grasp and he screams. I’m being burned by the fire. Slowly, I’m losing life and just when I think it’s over, he grabs me back up. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life running away. I jump out of his arms and run toward the demons with all I had left. Sparks of light flew up and they are gone. I suddenly have black lines of ancient writing all over me. He looks at me and sees all the spirits gathering around me. They all start screaming and I begin to bleed out. Nothing can stop it. We both fall face first to the ground, while bleeding out. Suddenly, death approaches and we are gone.
As the death approaches and as the night comes into looks. You see these mysterious things. You hear noises. Voices even. She was an ordinary girl, at least she thought she was. When, one day her whole life changed. The memories are now passing through her head as she finally disappears. Death came through this night like an open storm. The first day she saw him was her last day of life. She didn’t know it was and he didn’t know it was. He honestly started to like her and she him. As they ran from danger together, their efforts counted every moment. Now that they are dead what will happen next? Will there be an underworld, where the are really still alive, but dead at the same time? The journeys never end in this place. You may just hear the screaming of her one day. You better watch your back she could become one of the undead demons that killed her. Him sticking right beside her. The perfect couple killing innocent people together. Wish the others luck, for they might not come back alive. They might not come back at all.
Jul 2019 · 101
Dear Bully.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
Dear Bully:
I thought you were my true friend, but you went and hurt me. You called me so many names and they broke me in so many ways. They will never go away and will always haunt my mind. You ripped out pieces of my heart, and now I have to find them. I don’t know exactly what I did to you. I just know that you hate me for something.
For so many years, I believed all of the things you said to me. I was so uncomfortable in my body. I felt fat, so I stopped eating. I worked so hard to get the body that was skinny enough, just to make you happy. I had moments where I got so hungry, that I couldn’t move. I ate about once a day or two, but I never got small enough. I had people trying to force me to eat, but no one understood how much it hurt me. I couldn’t accept my weight no matter what it was.
I thought to myself each and every night about how ugly I was. I spent hours each night working to get the best look together. The hours I spent doing makeup and hair each morning became exhausting. I cried everyday before and after school. I couldn’t cry during because the makeup would be ruined. No matter how nice I dressed, it was never enough. I never pleased you. I was so depressed and couldn’t pull myself out of it because of you. My friends began to leave, which made me stronger in ways I never expected. I finally understood why I was being put through the mess. I finally was able to help others in a way most people couldn’t.
After a long time, I began to be pulled out of the deep pit of darkness. It was not an easy journey. Not many people stayed and fought for me. Thanks to you, I found out who my real friends are. I finally learned to accept myself. I am now able to feel the love I deserve. You made me stronger through everything you did. No matter how much you hurt me, mentally and physically, I know that I deserve so much better. I know that I am loved and accepted by the people whose opinions truly matter. So, thank you for opening my eyes and letting me be able to help others.
Love,
An old victim
Jul 2019 · 95
Captured at Last.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
As I slowly approach the opening of the boat, I see the vast, snowy mountains in the distance. It is so beautiful yet so cold of a sight that shivers go down my entire body. I smile as the slight chilly breeze whips through the air and makes all the snow twist in the starry sky. I never told my men that I was exiting the boat until one of them caught me. I told them to stay on the boat and if I didn’t return by noon to come find me. I decided to take this adventure on foot, but that might be a mistake. Slowly, walking the  land I see several strange and exotic animals. I began to draw a map of the route that I was taking. I never thought that I would be able to adventure to something this amazingly spectacular in my life. This land is just so different from my home land and I love it.
As I am walking, I hear mysterious noises of people talking. I never see the people from where these  voices are coming from. I carefully check around about every five minutes to make sure I don’t get ambushed. Suddenly, an arrow whistles past my head. It nips me across the cheek and blood start to gush out. It is just a slightly warm tingle that runs through my whole face. Suddenly, I am ambushed by this group of natives that I had no clue existed in this place. They knock me out and now it feels like I am drifting above the ground like I am a cloud floating in the sky.
I wake up in a cell that is no bigger than a daisy in a field of sunflowers. The soft whispers of children talking to their parents about various events that happened over the span of the past day seemed to tingle through the air. It is cold and dark in this place.
“Ah, help me,” I scream.
“Shut up in there,” Screams someone from not too far away.
I realize that I am not the only person trapped. The sound of footsteps startle me enough to make me jump. I realize the slight light from a torch coming my way. I look at a young woman no older than myself. She is dressed in a brown, shortsleeved gown that was decorated in several precise gems. Her hair was long, silky black that ran down her back in the most perfect way. I realize this must be one of the natives people and she has come to make sure I haven’t escaped. She looks at me in surprise as I am just standing there staring at her. Her beauty is just so stunning that I couldn’t say anything. I finally snapped myself out of it by telling myself that she is part of the cause that made me be trapped in this place.
“Are you hungry,” She asks.
I don’t want to respond back, but know that if I don’t respond she will cause something worse to happen to me.
“I’m not hungry,” I say.
She begins to turn away and I notice the tattoo on her shoulder. It is of a sun, but the moon was only halfway there.
“What does your tattoo mean,” I ask quietly.
“It means that nobody has made my moon whole, my father owns part and the other half will belong to my husband,” She responds proudly.
She then walks off and I sit here in the dark all alone.
Later that day, the girl comes back. This time she brought food and actually entered my cell. She smiles at me and I notice that she has a jewel in the middle of her forehead. I thought it was just a single jewel, but it actually tied into a bigger part of the headpiece that wraps around her small, heart-shaped head. She realizes that I am staring at everything about her.
“What are you staring at,” She asks.
“You,” I respond.
“Me” She asks.
“Yes, you,” I say.
“For what reason,” She asks shocked.
“Because of the beauty that you are enwrapped in and just how beautiful you are, even without all the jewels,’ I say.
She stops talking and I see that she is just a little bit confused. I believe she didn’t expect me to say that. I didn’t even expect myself to say that. Showing feelings toward someone isn’t really how I do things. She walks out the cell and locks it. When she bares me farewell, I see a slight sadness in her eyes. It’s almost like she doesn’t want to leave me locked up like this.
Hours pass and I finally drift off to sleep. I am awakened by loud bangs on some kind of drums. The same girl is back at my cell again. It makes me wonder if she ever goes and checks on someone else, but me. I look at her and she gets the biggest smile on her angelic face. She seems like she is in a lighter mood today.
“Hi,” She says in a soft voice.
Her voice is smooth, but crisp and it just sends warm tingles throughout my whole entire body. Silence rings through the air as if it were a bird in the wind.
“Goodmorning,” I finally say.
She enters my little cozy living area. I have finally gotten use to the way it feels and all the drafts in the walls.
“What is your name,” She asks.
“Jacques Cartier and you,” I say.
“Aiyana,” She replied.
“What does that mean,” I ask surprised by how mysterious it was.
“It means eternal blossom,” Aiyana replies.
“I must go now, but I will return,” Aiyana says.
She exits the place and yet again I am left all alone.
Hours after hours pass and she still hasn’t returned. Finally, after waiting a life time, she returns. She has a burlap bag in her hands along with a torch. She opens my cell and signals me to follow her. I do as she says. I hear a bunch of chaos outside. I look at her in awe and wonder. She just waves her hand to have me follow her. I’m led through several different tunnels. Each of the tunnels lead away from all of the noise. I hear screams of little children and mothers as guns begin to fire. I then realize that it must be my men. We are finally out under the starry night and I see one of my men running toward me. He screams my name and I realize that I have been gone for longer than I thought. Finally, they have come to rescue me and I will have to get the natives back before I leave this place.
Jul 2019 · 92
A Walk in the Woods.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
The song "Drink A Beer" came on as I cornered yet another corner of the woods. I began to cry uncontrollably. It begins to grow uncomfortable, but I have no clue why. I start to run back through the woods. I keep coming to corners after corners not being able to find my way around them. I'm running in endless circles and can't find my way back out of them. Something is continually chasing me. It won't get away from me. Then I run into him......
Tell me if I should continue this.
Jul 2019 · 1.3k
Did we pollute the World?
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
Culture is sometimes just a way of showing who the person truly are. A country’s culture shapes everyone’s life that lives the that  area. The ways that trading has affected culture is extraordinary. It changed the way we look at each religion and ideas all over the world. Trading helps a country’s culture because it spreads to grow a culture, makes other people see and understand the other cultures, and opens up new ideas.
    Without trade life would be different. Trading made the whole world be able to expand to new regions and eventually get along with one another. The native americans hating the fact that Europeans moved into their land and took over everything. Eventually, they began to get use to each other. It took time, but eventually they got the hang of it. It made the world be able to expand to new regions while being able to get along and not **** each other. Honestly, without trade the world would be less diverse and not able to be joined into one.
    Trading could help make the countries understand that they are different and that the world is better if they are different from each other. Take religion for an example, without the trading and exploring there would only be one specific religion for an area. That could be good, but it could also be very bad. Country leaders controlled their country by the religion a lot of times. England use to be only Catholic, so when they made colonies in America they ended up to be Catholic as well. The natives had their own beliefs and the English decided to come and try to control them. Well, that didn’t go too well for them. It caused a lot of fights between the groups. Now that the countries have traded, it opens up a whole new thought process to the different religions. It made you understand why the people believe what they do.
    Opening new religions is just a part of trade. Countries over the years have been introduced to religions such as; Judaism, Islam, Christianity, Buddhism, and Catholicism. Not only that, but look at the way traditions have changed. Christmas is a celebration that is celebrated in America by different religious and non-religious groups. Christianity and Catholicism believe baby Jesus was born on Christmas, but some people celebrate Christmas for the fun of it. Some people don’t even celebrate Christmas. A couple celebrate Hanukkah. So, trade made America more diverse.
    Trading could corrupt a culture, but it helps it a lot more. Spreading of religions helps countries be diverse in new ways. Without religion some people would be lost or stuck in a place where they were forced to think a certain way. Many countries had a lot of arguments because they didn’t understand each other properly. Without understanding someone, it would be bad and end in an argument. It gives knowledge about the traditions that have been spread throughout the whole world. Christmas wouldn’t be here and neither would any of the other holidays. So, trading has helped the culture of every country become better.
    
    Trading is a big part of a country’s culture, without it the world would be different. It helps in so many ways and no one really knows it. Times people don’t even appreciate what is given to them. Trading helps a country’s culture because it spreads culture to make it grow, makes people see different points of view, and opens up ideas. In order for you to prove this, look up information in a history book or look at America today.
Jul 2019 · 85
Privileges aren't Given.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
Having everything handed to someone sounds like the perfect life, well it’s kinda not. Just think about the children in other countries that don’t have the right to education, they would feel honored to have one. They work hard in order to earn things that are mostly given to others. That really isn’t fair. America doesn’t really have the people work to get an education. The poorer countries, such as Somalia and Eritrea have way less than half of the people even in primary education. Education should be a privilege because someone should have to work hard, try the best, and show some interest in wanting to learn.
Without even trying, some kids just give up. The teachers won’t want to teach someone who doesn’t care about doing any of the work. With the kids not doing the work, teachers will get irritated easily and that wouldn’t be fun for anyone. If people would work hard to get the best experience out of education it would eliminate some issues. If people don’t work hard, then there is no point in even trying to teach them. Teachers would rather have students who work hard than students who don’t even work. Teachers will even sometimes bring the person’s grade up because of their hard work.
In order for someone to succeed, that person must put in their best effort. Without even trying, people would be lost. Most students don’t understand why they have to even try. They wouldn’t want their teachers to just give up on them. It wouldn’t make it worth it the other way around either. It gives the teachers a bad attitude to everyone if someone makes no effort at all. People’s grades would be higher if they just put in effort. Teachers don’t mind helping if people reach out for help. If someone puts in their best effort, then they will somehow succeed no matter what. Teachers will actually want to help if people show how much they put in an effort.
If someone doesn’t show any interest in learning, they will get bored and give up. Normally, if someone goes in with positive attitude, the results are positive. Negative attitudes make everything someone does not seem worth it. If everyone shows just a little more interest, then life could end up better for the whole atmosphere. Some people think education should be a right, but if someone doesn’t put in the effort, it shouldn’t be given to them. Imagine being able to make school interesting and fun just by adding a little bit of rhythm to it.
Education should be a privilege because someone should have to work hard, try their best, and show some interest in wanting to learn. People in poorer countries don’t get the opportunities that people here in America get everyday. Americans have no clue how privileged they truly are because they believe things should be handed down to them. In order to prove this and get your opinions, make two groups, one who applies these and one who doesn’t apply these. That’s how you can tell it should be a privilege.
Jul 2019 · 90
Fires Only Destroy.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
I couldn’t believe my eyes. As I was heading home I saw people gathered outside. I didn’t know what was going on. I heard sirens in the distance and started to sprint home. As I watch the fire rise, I begin to push my way through the crowd. People were screaming that someone was still in there. I reach the front of the house, and realize how bad it truely is. I begin to rush towards the inside breaking free from the grips of those holding me back. I open the front door and am immediatly blasted back from the flames. I hear people screaming as I weave my way through. I hear the cries coming from upstairs, and they’re lit in flames, but I go up them anyway. I reach my sister’s room, already burnt and can’t breathe. I break through the door and get thrown back again. I get back up. I rush into the room finding a bedsheet and carefully wrap my sister in it. I pick her up and she yells because the dog is still in there. I quickly wrap the dog as well and pick them both up. I run straight through the flames making my way through the hall. The steps are completely in flames, and my thinking was off and I decided to jump off the banister. I land the wrong way on my leg, and I hear it snap and cry out. I get back up, even in the pain, with my sister and dog and rush through the house. I arrive at the front door. I hurry through the flames and down off the porch. I rush through the yard and lay down my sister and dog and unwrap them. I walk a little away, and collaspe to the ground. The last thing I hear is people screaming and running toward me.
Jul 2019 · 68
Writer's Journal 10.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
Everyday I walk in a world that destroys the people I love. There is no control over who gets treated badly, the world is the thing that gets to decide the way it all works out. Sometimes I wish we could choose how we feel throughout the days. I tend to wonder if the world just thinks that certain people deserve pain in their life, but then it hits me like a storm that nobody really deserves the pain. Pain isn’t given to you because you can’t handle it. It is given to you because you can handle it and help people out who are in similar situations. Life is a rollercoaster that no one sees what is around the corner. The rollercoaster never really stops until the very end. It is true that life has a happy ending for everyone and if you are not happy, then it is not the end. Most people dealing with suicide doesn’t know what the light looks like anymore. They have gotten ****** into a deep black hole that they believe no one can get them out of. It’s hard to think that I’ve been in that place myself. I’ve felt so alone that there was no hope for my life and I was just going to give up. I was so tired of fighting all the demons that had entered my soul and I couldn’t deal with it. I felt like the whole entire world hated me. I couldn’t see color in the way most people could. I would look at someone or something and it would all be dull. My vision wasn’t only blurry, but it was full of dullness. I looked at everything in a way that I couldn’t explain to anyone. Pink reminded me of sadness and cancer like most colors did, but red and black was a different story. Most people think red is love, but I didn’t see that. I thought of red as blood and torture, something that I believed should’ve happen to me. Black is mostly considered death these days, but black was happiness for me. It is still happiness to me. It brought me comfort when I needed it most. It made me confident and was also a way for me to hide all the pain. Blue and purple always reminded me of bruises and scars for a strange reason. White was void. That was the color I avoided the most. I couldn’t stand to wear white. I hid from it because I was scared of how empty I felt around it. All the colors would slowly fade from view as I would go into a shutdown that I couldn’t control. I never thought my eyes could be opened up to a different view on all of the colors that once haunted me. I would cry for no reason when I would wear certain colors. I would hide in colors that everyone thought was good, but I thought different. I’m finally seeing the colors in a better way. I don’t feel as lost when I’m around them or when I’m wearing them. I just wish I could find the full light, because this is what torture is. It is easing me into and out of the spectrum and I wish it would let me go.
Jul 2019 · 70
Writer's Journal 9.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
She screamed out from the cries in her dream. She wakes up sweating not knowing why. What had she just witnessed? The girl shouldn't have died like that. There is no way to explain when she first seen her. Did she **** her? She doesn't know why it had to end in her getting up in panic. She gets off of the floor where she ended up last night. The old barn looks too familiar to her. It's rusty hinges getting ready to fall off the door as the wind slowly creaks the old wooden floor. She slowly moves through the old barn to see what all had gotten in over the long, restless night. She peaks around the corner of the wall and sees a little girl. Her face cold, rock, still in the moment. Then it hit her, that's the little girl from her dream. She had always shown up in them. She slowly walks over to the girl who appears to be asleep. Touching her, she was cold, but she flinched at the light touch. She's alive, but how? The little girl in the dream had died. She has a Saturn implanted on her wrist indicating something was off. Maybe she had been branded and she ran away. How would she have escaped? The little girl slowly starts to whisper ‘Melody’ referring to her name. It's such a sweet innocent name for her, yet she looks so vile of heart. How was she supposed to know she was supposed to run away before she woke up?
Jul 2019 · 76
Writer's Journal 8.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
I screamed at the thought of dying; I couldn’t help the thought of wanting to die. I didn’t expect to ever feel this way. I thought I was one of the strongest people in the world because I never showed my pain; that wasn’t the best for me in the end. The pain became so unbearable that I wanted to run away from it. I began to close off from all the people that mattered in my life. I don’t have a clue why this was happening to me. I thought I had made such a big mistake that I shouldn’t be alive. That thought scared me so much that I ran. I hide away from all of the thoughts and pains in my life. It was some of the hardest times in my life. I never thought I would get out of it. The dreams haunted my ever wandering thoughts and it just wouldn’t go away. People laughed at me thinking nothing was wrong; I was okay in their own eyes. I had nothing to do but hide behind all the lies I had created. I tried to force myself to be okay because I didn’t have a reason to be that upset. They never believed my mind flooded with the thoughts of death. I just wish they seen the true way my mind was thinking. I just actually wanted to be okay; I needed help, but no one could help. That’s until someone found me all alone and seen right past my lies. They saved me and I couldn’t thank them enough. Yes, my life is still really hard, but I try my best to make it through everything. It put me up to the task of being able to help others who are going through similar things out. That’s what I live for everyday. To see my best friend smile is all I need to save my day from falling away.
Jul 2019 · 57
Writer's Journal 7.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
A cold day where everything withered away into emptiness is something that I will always remember. It was too early for the little children to be up. It was scary to know that death was so present in my life. As I rush to call an ambulance, tears roll completely down my face. I never thought I would have to do what I was doing. Watching my mother lay there unable to breathe was the scariest part of my life. She was what shaped me into the person I am. Now I had to watch her dying before my eyes and without knowing what to do.
The squad drew close to the big blue place that I was supposed to call home. It never felt like I belonged there. I wasn’t meant to feel happy there. I realized the house was meant for torture and death. They found mom and she couldn’t walk. Her oxygen had almost completely left her body. The smoking was killing her so slowly. They had her on a stretcher, and I couldn’t stop crying. She didn’t look like my mother. She looked ready to die and not strong enough anymore. She gave up hope that day.
The squad left with all the blinding red lights. The red is all I remember. It’s as if it represented blood. It showed me that she could die any second. That it could be my last chance to see her and say goodbye. The sirens slowly disappeared as I sat out on the porch crying. It was still early and I knew I should sleep, but the dreams kept waking me. I felt so numb and I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to eat or even breathe. My life was ****** out of me within a second. I couldn’t believe it had happened this way.
It was still a school day, and I had to be strong. I couldn’t cry in front of all those people. I had to hide from everyone, so I did. I threw on my orange hoodie and a fake smile. I had to convince everyone that I was fine. My mind drifted so much that day. I truly wasn’t myself after that day. I got lost in my thoughts so much. I pushed my best friend away. I wasn’t okay. I was so broken and no one could help. I wanted to get away, but I had to be the brave one. I had to stay locked away, but I wanted to run away.
That day haunts my dreams. I seem fine, but that’s just the outside. My story goes deeper. I needed to be saved from myself. I didn’t know what to say. That led to some tough topics. I never thought I would be the one to think of suicide, but that day started to control me. People everywhere controlled me. I was so lost in the thoughts of all the things that happened to me that I couldn’t be saved. I was so far away from any hope, that I just wanted to be dead. I just had to hold on for everyone else.
I was there for people because I would never be here for myself. Stories lie deeper than the cover and no one truly knows. They used to say nothing was wrong with me because I was always smiling, but that wasn’t true. I was killing myself on the inside. I am there, but not there at the same exact time. That’s why when I say “ I understand,” I really do. I wouldn’t lie about this yet people think I do. At times, I wish they wouldn’t judge books by the covers.
Jul 2019 · 62
Writer's Journal 6.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
I was slowly walking down the street and the screams were becoming unbearable. I figured that it was only inside my head, but I was too tired to realize that it was me who was screaming. The street is completely dark and I am all alone. Who could be following me at this point? Why would they want to follow me? I turn the corner and there stands a tall man with a hood on. I couldn’t see his face, it was way too and he was covered by the hood. He wore all black and never once moved, until he began to walk towards me. I scream louder.
“ Who are you?” I scream.
He only chuckles.
“ What do you want from me?” I ask again.
He smiles, his face now a tiny bit visible. He still doesn’t say a word.
“ Answer me,” I scream at him.
He replies, “ Just look how beautiful and fierce you are all at once.”
I slightly roll my eyes and he chuckles at the fact of it.
“ What do you want from me and who are you?” I ask impatiently.
He fiddles with something around his wrist. It didn’t look normal at all.
“ What are you doing?” I ask.
He looks at me, but he has not said anything about that.
“ Why have you not answered me?” I say impatiently.
He tilts his and grabs me wrist. His skin is icy cold to the touch, yet it sends a tingle of warmth through my whole arm. It felt familiar, but I couldn’t figure out from what.
“ Why are you touching me?” I ask in hesitation.
“ It has been my reaction ever since I first seen you,” he says leaving me in awe.
“ What do you mean by that?” I ask.
“ Exactly as I have said,” he responds.
Now I’m the one to tilt my head. I’m extremely confused on when he has touched me before. Something seems so wrong, but so right at the same time. Realization finally strikes, I have seen him before, but only in a dream or at least I thought it was a dream.
“ When have you touched me?” I ask.
He grins, but makes no noise. I look at him pleading that he will just tell me.
He finally responds, “ Not too long ago actually, maybe last week, you were walking your normal way that night and I accidentally ran into you. I quickly got up and ran off, too scared of what you would say.”
“ Why didn’t you talk to me then, but you are now?” I ask.
“ I didn’t know how I would have told you,” he responds.
“ Now that you have confused me, why are you still here?” I ask.
“ I wanted to talk to you. I have always wanted to talk to you,” he responds slowly.
“ Why would you want to talk to me? I’m not a good person,” I respond without thinking.
“ You are perfect to me,” he says.
I think through everything that he has said, but I’m just left in a pool of wandering fears.
Jul 2019 · 53
Writer's Journal 5.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
“ Where is she?” an older gentleman questioned angrily.
“ She’s over there on the couch asleep,” says the boy that wrapped my leg.
“ Why are you talking about me when I’m right over here hearing everything you say about me?” I ask angrily.
They jump in surprise and don’t move an inch. What is wrong with them? I know that I’m a girl, but I’m also a human too. They act like I’m some kind of alien to their species. The thought of it makes my blood boil. How dare they think of me as an outsider. Yes, I know that I’m in their home, but still.
“ Is none of you gonna speak to me?” I ask impatiently.
“ Don’t you think you are being too impatient, sweetie?” the boy asks.
“ First of all, don’t call me sweetie. Second, why am I here in the first place?” I comment in a sarcastic tone.
Silence fell over the room. It’s like they have not been talked to like that. Honestly, I don’t care what they think of me. They’re just a bunch of arrogant boys that don’t need to be talking to me at all. They think I’m too inpatient and honestly they don’t know me at all.
“ Will one of you at least say something to me?” I ask.
“ Why should we speak to you?” the older gentleman asked impatiently.
I roll my eyes and get up from the couch. I walk through the house trying my best to get away from those two arrogant fools. I finally find the door, but before I was able to reach it the boy grabbed my arm. I turned in defense and almost punch him in the face. His face goes to alarm as I scream “what do you want?”
“ Don’t leave me.” he responds.
“ I don’t even know who you are. Why should I just stay here?” I respond quietly.
“ Please, I don’t want you to leave.” he says quietly.
I turn away angered. I don’t care what he has to say. Why has he even brought me here? I don’t belong. They all just hate me. I guess I deserve it though. This is their house and I have intruded, but it’s not even my fault. The guy just brought me here. I didn’t ask for any of this. I just want to go back to my home. I want to be far away from all these people. I look at the clock in the hallway near the door right as it hits two. I realize that it has been a while since I’ve been completely conscious. They’re all staring at me in a weird way. Apparently, I’ve been frozen in place. I rush out the door, letting it slam behind me. I run down the street when there was a car rushing down the road. I scream for no reason and I remember is being hit.
Jul 2019 · 56
Writer's Journal 4.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
As I am slowly walking down the street, I hear these quiet noises. They almost sound like screams, but they also sound like laughing. Before I am able to process the noises, my breath has been knocked out of me and I’m on the ground. I try to scream, but nothing will come out. Until I stood up, I didn’t notice that something was right in front of me. It looked as though it was a person, but I’m not so sure that it was. As I go to walk, I notice my leg is bleeding. The figure looks at me in concern. While tilting my head, I try to ask what it was. Before I am able to turn to walk away, it dashes towards me. I scream and can’t seem to catch my breath. It grabs me by the arm and I almost fall straight to the ground. I have bled so much that it feels like I am floating and can’t move a muscle. The creature picks me up in what feels like a human set of arms. I notice that it is a guy just by the smell and feel of him. I relax thinking that it is all just a dream and I will wake up by the end of it. Suddenly the atmosphere gets extremely warm. He places me down on a soft couch and leaves the room. Before he returns, I hear faint chatter in another room. They all sound angry, but I have no clue why. They are asking who the girl someone brought in here was. Until I realize they were talking about me, I thought they meant a different girl. They were mad that I was here and I had no clue why. I wanted to get up to move, but I couldn’t. Well, that didn’t really stop me. I sat up and attempted to get up off the couch. He immediately ran in and gently pushed me back on the couch.
“ You can’t move,” He said.
“ Why,” I responded.
“ Your leg is too hurt and you have bled too much,” He responded.
I immediately shut up and looked away. I wanted to scream. I wanted to be away from him as soon as possible. Suddenly, he grab my leg and began to clean the ****. I cried in pain as the burn went through my whole body. It was the first time I felt anything like this. It wasn’t like a normal cut. It had a certain shape, as though something had bit me. He began to wrap bandages around it, when a bunch of people walked in the room. They were all staring at me.
“ You know she can’t leave like this,” A boy in blue said.
“ I already know this Eric,” The one wrapping my leg responded angrily.
Jul 2019 · 55
Writer's Journal 3.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
I go to my closet to try to find clothes to change into. I finally pick out the black, laced long sleeved dress with my pair of black combat boots. I hurry and take a shower, then I walk downstairs to figure out what to eat. I’m not that hungry, like always, so I just decide on the smallest apple I can find. Once I finish eating, I go and finish my hair and brush my teeth. I then grab my black, chained, miniature bookbag and head out the door. I hate being in my house during the day because some of the things that happen there all the time. It just isn’t the same after my family abandoned me. I haven’t seen them ever since and now I just don’t want to see them. They decided to hate me, so, in return I hate them. I am halfway down the street when I hear a familiar voice. It was the little girl. I turn in surprise and she enwraps me in a tight hug. I am stunned by the way that she just runs up and hugs me, that I am stuck in place. I can’t move a single limb and I can’t even talk. Olivia releases me and I am finally able to catch my breath. I smile down at her because I know that she is thinking that I am completely weird for not hugging her back. I look up and there he stands. He is dressed in a white shirt with a leather jacket complementing his black jeans. His shoes are more of a solid black converse with no white on them. His hair was combed in the perfect way, where only a few pieces fell in his face to accent it. He ***** his head at me like he is trying to figure out what I am thinking. Good thing for me that he can’t read minds. If he could, I would be in so big trouble.
“Hello, Earth to Athena,” He says.
“Hi, ****,” I say.
“Now aren’t you being a little rude today,” He asks in a playful tone.
Jul 2019 · 82
Writer's Journal 2.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
I see the shadows in the darkest of the nights. The times when nothing else is showing up. I slowly walk toward the end of the tunnel where there is barely even a shimmer of light. It’s so dark that no one would expect that someone would be out at this dark of a night. The streams are flowing with ease through the dark abyss. The sound of the owls hooting is what is calming my senses just by a little bit. I can tell there are other presences out, but can’t figure out where they are hiding in the shadows. I seek out to try to find at least one of the presences. I’m walking along the places that I know all too well. I can never stop wondering these little secret passageways at night, especially when it is this dark everywhere. I here silent little whispers of the little children talking to their parents that are actually dead. I never felt like they knew what they really looked like. The way these kids described their parents was the saddest thing in the world. They described them as evil beings of the night and how much they wish they would just talk to them. The funny thing is that I wish someone would come out and just talk to me for a change. I call out to the little voices, but all they do is go completely silent. It truly hurts when none of them will ever talk to me back. I just wish they could come out. I hate the fact that they are all alone in the dark. At times, I just feel like I have voices in my head. I feel like I am going completely crazy and just don’t know how to fix it anymore. I take my place in the dark abyss and just start to drift off to sleep, when a little hand taps on my shoulder. I jump up startled and look at her in awe. She slightly smiles and patiently waits for me. I smile really big at her and ask what her name is. She said it was, “Olivia.” Then, all of a sudden, I hear a man’s voice behind me. I turn and see a guy no older than 18 looking straight at the little girl. His eyes move to me and his face lights up in surprise.  I look him in the eyes and smile extremely big.
I say, “Hi.”
“Hello, my name is Joshua,” He said.
“My name is Athena,” I said.
His smile widens and I can’t help, but smile back. I look away from him because I am not use to having people come out and talk to me.
“Joshy, can we keep her?” Olivia asks excited.
“Via, she is her own person, we can’t just take her and not let her go,” Joshua says.
She begins to cry and my heart breaks to see her this sad. I walk up and hug her tightly.
“It will be okay.” I say, “I’m not going to disappear.”
She finally stops crying and I’m able to let her go. Joshua looks at me and says, “thanks.”
“It wasn’t a problem. I’m finally glad someone came out to talk to me.” I say in a slight whisper.
After such a long time of feeling completely alone, I have someone here to talk to. It is a strange, but good feeling. Joshua looked at me as though he was trying to read my thoughts. Thank goodness he couldn’t. That would be a very bad problem. It would reveal way too much about me to anyone. I am not what I seem and I plan to keep everyone out of those little secrets of mine, so that no one will ever get hurt again. I can’t do that to another person.
“I have to go.” I say sadly.
“Can we see each other tomorrow?” Olivia asks me with puppy dog eyes beaming into my soul.
“I’m not sure.” I say, “Ask Joshua and see what he thinks.”
“Joshy, pleaseeeeee. Please, let us see her again tomorrow.” Says Olivia.
“Okay, but only if you be a good little sister and not be bad tonight.” Says Joshua.
She exclaimed, “YAYYYYY!”
I tell them goodbye and head off through the darkness, not knowing what to expect for tomorrow. I sign in grief and relief. I just know that I can not get close to these people, if I do then it will be trouble. Yes, I totally agree that Joshua is cute and the his sister is amazing. I just don’t want to get close to them because I am scared to. I don’t want to lose another person and I can’t hurt anymore people. I make it to my street and walk to my house. I walk inside and it is the same as always. I take a shower and go to bed. I’m not hungry, so I don’t even bother looking for food. I wake up screaming from how bad of a nightmare I had. I jump up and can’t go back to sleep.
Jul 2019 · 327
Writer's Journal 1.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
As I was slowly walking down the street,  hear nothing but rustling leaves and whistling wind. It is quite quiet tonight, if I don’t say so myself. I begin to walk in the street because the sidewalk comes to an end. I have gotten so use to the route, that even though it is darker tonight, I can still see where I am going and it is easy to navigate along all the curves. I come to the big, old, Cherry Blossom Tree at the end of Saint Monroes Avenue. I hear a soft whisper of a couple teenagers in one of the houses. Then, all of a sudden, I hear a loud crash with screams that followed. I don’t quicken my speed because it is just something that I normally hear whenever I’m walking. A slight breeze whips through no sooner than I paused. I take a moment to just look around and enjoy the peaceful night. An owl hoots high in the tree above me. I look up into the dark night sky that is covered in clouds with the moon shining through. For the first time in a while, it seems to be a full moon. I always keep track of when the full moon appears. It intrigues me just because it is so different. I begin to walk again and I just enjoy the rest of my walk. Finally, I’m at the end of Saint Monroes Street. Approaching another street, I see that it is so much darker than all the others. I don’t pay it any mind because I’m so use to walking in the darkness every single night. More noises crash through the almost silent night. This time it was a little weird. I thought I heard someone whisper my name, but when I turned around, no one was there. I just turned back around and continued on my walk home. I finally make the last turn onto my street. Now it is just a straight path home. My house is completely dark when I arrive. I’m use to nobody being home at all. It’s always been like that. Whenever people ask if they can come over, I have to say no. They would turn me in if they found out I lived all alone in this big house. I never really see my parents anymore. They always disappear every time I arrive back at home. It’s like they hate me, but I have no clue why they would hate me. I guess it is just because I have let them down so much and I’m just a disgrace as a daughter. They truly wanted a son, but ended up with me instead. Of course, I have a younger brother, but I never see him either. They keep him away from me since I’m so different from the whole family. I’ve learned to live with all these responsibilities on my own over the years, so it doesn’t bother me as much anymore. I just wish I knew what I did and how I can fix it. I hear whispers of my name every night as I look around my lonely home. I make me a sandwich and begin on my homework. I absorb myself in my work so I don’t notice how lonely my home really is. I finally finish all of my time absorbing homework and take my plate to the kitchen. I turn off the lights and listen to music so I can fall asleep. I wake up every morning to the same birds chirping their little melody. I take a shower and skip breakfast, like I do every single morning. I walk to the bus stop just to realize that it was Halloween and they let us have the day off of school. I walk back inside and finally realize that I am not alone. I look up to see a teenage boy around my age staring right back at me. I am completely startled as he yells my mother’s name and I looked up to see the beautiful woman looking at me. I am stunned by just how breathtaking she really is. I try to say hello, but I couldn’t even get the simple word out. She looks at me in concern. She must notice the small slits on my arms, but I try to think it was something else that she noticed. She asked if I have gotten smaller and I said yes. I said that I’m not small enough yet and I have to keep pushing myself. She mentioned how I was getting too small. I’m only 130 pounds. That is way too much for me to weigh. The boy that is around my age looks at me confused. I ask who he is and my mother says he is a family friend. Of course, I wouldn’t know him because I’m not really a part of the family anymore. I turn to leave, but he catches my arm. I try to yank away, but his grip is too strong and I stumble into his arms. I push myself away to stand on my own and my mother asks where I am going. I said I’m just going on a walk and she shouldn’t worry about it because she is never around and never cares to talk to me any other time. I walk upstairs to grab my bag and money. I had decorated the whole house in Halloween stuff, because it is really the only thing I can look forward to doing each year. I have no family who really cares, so I do all the traditions and stuff all on my own. I run down the steps and grab my keys off the hanger by the door. My mother and the boy was standing by the door waiting on me to return. I look at them and know that they aren’t going to really leave me alone. I ask what they want and they said just to talk. I told them I didn’t have time and pushed my way through them. As I reach the outside, I begin to cry. I can’t believe that she thought that she could just walk back into my life after all these years. I put up a wall so no one could ever hurt me again. I plan on never letting her back into my life. I’ve grown so use to the feeling of being alone, that I don’t really want to let any of my “family” back into my life. I just remember that I left my cars keys inside the house and have to walk back inside infront of all the people who walked out of my life. I just hope they have left already. I walk inside and that boy comes and meets me at the door. I look at him and just walk past him to the living room. I see not only my mother, but my brother and father, as well as some of their friends sitting in the living room. They all look at me and I awkwardly smile, walk over to my bag, grab my car keys, and turn to leave. As I am leaving, they tell me to sit down and talk for a little while. I say that I can’t and turn to leave again, only to run into the same boy again. This time I say sorry very quietly and leave the room. I make it out the door before any of them was able to make it to me. I get into my car and drive off to my favorite Halloween store in town, Mount Terror. It has all the best costumes, candy, decorations, and anything known to Halloween. I grab a cart and begin to get the candy for tonight. I go and pick out the last part of my costume. I make sure I have some Halloween games and activities for the party throw every single year. I finally make it to check out and load everything into my car. I go by Superfast Supermarket to get all the food that I need for tonight. I finally return home and begin to unload the car. I unlock my house door and walk in with every bag on my arms. I kick off my shoes and throw down my purse, keys, and jacket. I look up to see the boy staring at me again. He comes over and offers to help me carry things, but I say no thanks and walk towards the living room. I see that more of my family’s friends are sitting in the room with them. They all see me with my arms full. I slightly smile and walk through in order to get to the kitchen. I dropped two bags because they ripped. I place everything down in the kitchen and then turn to go pick up everything I dropped when I see the boy had brought it all to me. I walked over to him and helped him. I said thank you and he smiled. I placed everything down and walked back out into the livingroom to the front door. I grabbed my purse and hung it up so it wouldn’t just be laying around. I walked back to the kitchen and began preparing the kitchen for all of the food I had to make. I preheated the oven and began to mix every single dessert that needed to be mixed up and placed them in the pans. I was able to fit four pans in at once, so I could begin the other parts of the cooking. I played my music, so I couldn’t hear what they were talking about in the living room. I could feel the presence of someone in the room staring at me. I turn and notice it was him again. He finally speaks and tells me his name, Dexter. I ask what he wanted from me and he said he just wanted to talk to me for a while. I finally gave in and told him to stay in here and talk for awhile. It lasted for the hours I was in this kitchen, but now I don’t know exactly where I stand in this mess.
Jul 2019 · 61
Not fair to myself.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
Have you ever just sit and wondered why you are who you are? Do you ever just feel so unimportant that you want to give up then sometimes feel so beautiful and love everything about yourself? I feel these ways everyday. I never think I am good enough to make a happy and healthy life for me out in this world. This world feels like it is beating me down every single day of my torturous life. I feel like my life is out to **** me from the inside to the outside. I can’t believe how lucky I am sometimes. There are times when I feel completely happy about myself. I feel loved and protected in a special way. I can’t see why I keep on wavering like this. I love being happy, but if I absolutely had to I would be sad all the time. If it meant making everyone else happy, I would do that. I would do anything to make other people happy. I care too much for other people’s happiness and not enough for my own. I wish I was able to change that trait about myself. I’m not able to make myself happy for even a day completely. Life isn’t easy for someone with such a big heart to be acting cruel and unfair. People with a big heart never get a break in this world. They are always getting hurt the worst when it comes to this place. It treats people who are hurting with the worst conditions than having the easy way out.
Jul 2019 · 68
Blocking
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
HELP! It won’t leave me alone. It has always been chasing me. I can’t seem to get my head straight. I am a newspaper writer, but I can’t seem to get the story out anymore. I get the words “The children” and then everything goes blank. I begin running from it. A thing in person form that keeps on chasing me down the streets. The streets being my mind and the person as a sort of imagination. It stops me from being myself. It stops me from writing and thinking. I don’t know what to do about it anymore. It keeps chasing me deeper down the streets until I am completely lost.
Jul 2019 · 149
Torture
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
Pain.
Torment.
Wanting to die.
Never wanting to be alive.
You can't see a good person in your life.
You feel disgusted.
You hate yourself more by the day.
You can't ever be happy because they won't let you.
You are blamed.
You are just a game.
You will never be loved.
Never be free.
You are forever gone.
So say goodbye.
To their precious little game.
Jul 2019 · 71
Life far from it seems.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
Life is not always what it may seem. It throws difficult situations at you when you are having a hard time already. The broken glass, quotes, blood, tears, and all the pain represents different ways I feel about life. The broken glass can mean many different things. It could mean lost hope, broken family, losing yourself, and even when you feel broken yourself. These do honestly apply to me. Lost hope is bease so many people through out my life has caused this. Now I feel like I can't even have hope. With the broken family, it is because I have lost so many members of it. Then others just leave me. Losing yourself is basically not knowing who you are. Even when you feel broken, you don't known where you stand anymore. All these have many different purpose's in life. It's like you made a wrong turn and now you're trying to find your way back. Where do I begin with the quotes? They all have their own meaning, because, in all honesty, pain changes people. Life never gives you time to sit and think. Maybe you don't know your place in this world and feel broken. Maybe you're happy. Either way, something bad has or will happen to you sooner or later. That's just how life works. The quotes to me mean something really special and important to me. They are what help me through my feelings. I have a hard time speaking my feelings, but when I write I can express them. That is why I chose the quotes. Blood, you would honestly ask what that would mean, right? You could take it in many different ways. Indeed, some people find it gross, but not me. Blood could mean a horrible memory or if you ever felt like you wanted to die. Horrible memory is like losing a family member. Wanting to die is like cutting yourself to feel relieved. It's true, people who have this pain never show it. It's a way they feel about life. Turn to yourself and ask if you ever wanted to commit self-harm. Some would say yes, some would say no. Which side are you on? It's a lot to process when you have just been asked if you ever tried to harm yourself and I know talking doesn't help. If you sit and wonder "Why me?" Well, this world is cruel and it punishes the good. Some of the self-harm comes from being bullied. Would you want anyone you care about do this to you? Most of the time the answer is no, but sometimes it's yes. Okay, so the tears always are somewhere inside of you. Most people hide them. Someone who is hurt can hide them and only another hurt can tell. Some people put on fake smiles, but their eyes can give them away. Some tears are meant to fall, some, on the other hand, are not. If you hold in the tears become worse inside. You may not know your place in this world, but you are among many others who may think they do. As for me, I defiantly don't know my place in this world. We're human, we are made for mistakes. Many talk about the future, but have you ever talked about your present? You get forced to determine your life before the time has come. We just need a time pause to think about how we feel about ourselves. What we feel inside. It won't go away through time. Some hope, some don't. This world is cruel and twisted with new surprises at every wrong corner. Just think, do I really feel useless and broken, or hiding in the shadows? Or do I feel happy and want to enjoy this place?
This was for a project.
Jul 2019 · 82
Quote 11.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
Broken down into flames.
Far away from all the cruel games.
Never to be restored.
Never to be found.
Forever more.
Jul 2019 · 280
Quote 10.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
Lost upon the long waves.
Waiting for that long awaited day.
To be found and back to life.
To see it crumble back before your eyes.
Jul 2019 · 57
Quote 9.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
My fear has intruded me.
I'm lost in another haze.
The days become cold.
I'm drifting away.
Jul 2019 · 69
Quote 8.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
I've been locked away.
The waves are real far away.
What do they look like in May?
I can't see them till the time I get away.
Jul 2019 · 104
Quote 7.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
Lost inside a bundle of dreams.
Never to be found it seems.
Across the sea to the land of dreams.
Only to be woken in a pile of flames.
Jul 2019 · 85
Quote 6.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
Never to see the beauty that lies.
Far on the way to be ignored.
Just like the lies and the cries.
Jul 2019 · 72
Quote 5.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
When you're down it also means you're blue. The sky is blue. So doesn't that mean it's down too.
Jul 2019 · 117
Raped without being raped.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
He ***** me.
He made me feel like I had to speak those ways.
He told me I was beautiful.
He said I was worth more.
I feel empty now.
I'm numb from the pain.
The images of guns to his head.
Cuts on his wrists.
They won't leave.
The cigarettes he would always send photos of.
He made me guilty.
I was forced to talk ****** to him.
He killed my feelings.
It is so hard to trust now.
He makes me feel useless.
The nudes he sent scar me.
I can never get it out my head.
He threatened to **** himself.
I'm lost in all the guilt.
I will never be clean again.
I feel *****.
I've never been *****.
What did I do to deserve this?
Jul 2019 · 56
Safe Places.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
We all talk about safe places, but I don't really know if that's completely possible. I think I found a place for me to be calm and able to cry with no one always coming around, maybe just a walker or two. But it's not like they come all the time. It's a quite peaceful place, but don't know if I would call it a safe place to go. I never really understood what people meant by safe place to go. How you are supposed to have one in your home. Sometimes, when people use the word safe, it could be completely dangerous. I don't completely understand, which is kinda bad for me. I feel like I should know where that place is. The images that is put into my head isn't always the best. I've gotten use to every death thought that I get. I would love to be normal again. When I was a kid, it was never this hard. Yes, I know my dad was away alot, but I got use to it. I cried everytime he left though. Back then was so much easier. Nothing was wrong. I felt like I belonged. I wasn't broken. I was so happy and now I'm just wondering why all that happiness is gone. It gets harder to bring it back each time. I'm able to laugh and smile and act like I feel amazing, but on the inside I feel like I'm caving in. Some nights I can't even move and on others I'm too motivated. Lately, I haven't been motivated to move. I caved into my darkness. It wants me to completely break, but I try to hang on. I have to wear long sleeves in the summer now. Not because I'm cold, but from where I've been letting go and almost giving up. The first time I used a blade, I couldn't feel a thing. All I know is that I was finally in peace. I have so many broken pieces, that I don't know if I want them fixed. The nights is what hits me the most. They make me feel this aloneness that is hopeless to get out of. Ever since the medicine I took, the nights got worse to bear. I don't even want to hang on to life anymore. I feel useless to this world and to God himself. There are some days in church when I got chills, but it seems like it was all in my head. Like a body function that happens only when you're nervous. I question why I even was brought into this world. Some days when people give me hugs, the only reason why I go away is because I don't want to cry. That's actually most the time. I wish I was able to actually cry and let everything out, but in the end I feel so much worse. I feel bad for putting everything on everyone else. If I ever had a support system, I lost it. I didn't want to hurt more people. Everyone I talk to, I feel like I hurt them. There is reasons for everything I do now. The reason I don't eat is because I hate the way I look. I wish I was able to be a normal teen again. I haven't been myself in forever. I don't feel like I deserve to be fixed anymore. The world didn't break me, I broke myself. I deserve to be broken. I actually deserve worse than that. I deserved so many more cuts than I have on my wrist. Certain things can only help so much. Walking is starting to not help anymore. It cleared my mind some, just the numbness is becoming more powerful by the day. My thoughts become blurry. I can't think straight that much anymore. I still have to chose my words carefully. It's hard to write sometimes. Distractions happen in my mind and outside my mind. I barely am able to write at home, because everyone walks into the room. The only time I've been able to write, besides for now, was at the church in the nursery. Yes, Jenna ran in sometimes and others came in, including you, but those were people I felt safe to write in front of and none of you would ask what I was writing. I've mainly wrote in cursive lately because this person in my house was watching me as I wrote and I closed the book on him. Luckily, he can't read cursive well. It's really the only way I can write in my house. I'm able to let go to music you suggested to me. It's really the only time I have listened to Christian music this much. It's what has broke me every night lately. It's why I broke last night. It's completely different when your family is religious, but doesn't really care what you are. They like us to believe, but we don't have to. We have been free to make that decision. I'm sure you would be the same way, but the way it is for me is different. I feel like I actually have to believe. It doesn't really feel like I have the choice, when I really do. Many people tried to force me to be religious.
Accidentally deleted.
Jul 2019 · 63
Quote 4.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
If your feelings shine, your pride dies.
Jul 2019 · 119
Quote 3.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
If you break me down, I'll come crumbling down, like that tower in the town.
Jul 2019 · 64
Hard Strikes.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
Things are hard.
Very hard indeed.
When things hurt, you'll see.
The hurt comes.
It leaves marks.
In your heart you know.
Maybe you want to give up.
Please don't.
Stay strong.
Everyone feels this.
So you're not all alone.
Jul 2019 · 78
Crash and Breakdown.
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
If you crash and breakdown, get back up. Don't let it keep you from who to be. Stay string soldiers. Fight every second you got. Stay calm and keep it together. You're a strong soldier. Every one of you.
Jul 2019 · 65
Strong
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
See this.
This pain and torture.
You're still here through it all.
You're being strong.
Don't let anyone tell you wrong.
You're a very strong person.
Don't forget it.
Jul 2019 · 104
Quote 2
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
Let your light shine through the wold like it doesn't matter, because when it matters nobody cares about the light.
Jul 2019 · 449
Quote 1
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
The darkness arises when no one is there to keep it away.
Jul 2019 · 54
It Kills
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
I'm not doing good at all anymore. I always have to fake a smile even when I am breaking. My best friend acts like she hates me. She makes me feel like trash 24/7. I've been thinking about suicide non-stop now. The thoughts will not go away. I have been balancing on a little edge and don't know how long until I finally fall. Maybe it would be better if I just end it. I can't handle all this pain anymore. Nothing has been helping me. I'm starting to close off more than ever. I feel like I deserved to be mistreated. I still deserve to be mistreated. Can someone just end my life right now? I can't keep putting others through having to talk to me. I act strong, but can't do it for much longer. I hate every single thing about me. I'm the biggest mistake in the world. Please, somebody **** me. I don't deserve to live. I shouldn't have even been born. I don't want to wake up anymore. The pain I put myself through is numb. I don't feel the digging of my nails into my skin anymore. I keep doing it constantly. I'm gonna have to switch to a blade. Somebody took them away from me before I was able to use them. Now I have to get new ones. I don't want to live anymore. I want this pain to end. Nothing takes these thoughts away anymore. I can't deal with it. I'm not strong enough. I never was. Please, end me now.
Jul 2019 · 65
Death
Paula Putnam Jul 2019
I keep feeling the empty feeling. I don't know how to control it anymore. It drags me down and I just can't take it much longer. More scars are showing up. What if people start to notice them? I have to hide my arms already. One friend has already pointed out little marks on my arm. They know what it is. What if it keeps getting worse? I'm not going to be able to take this anymore real soon. I'm already fading out of exsistence. I pushed away everyone. I don't know how much longer that I am going to try anymore. I'm closing off more and more. I'm dying on the inside and it is bringing pain on the outside. Surprisingly I can't feel all the pain anymore. I can't feel when my nails dig into my skin. The feeling is so numb. How come I even have to deal with this? Death thoughts are getting worse in my head. I deserve the worst things ever. I'm worse than anyone could imagine. I have lost my old self. I'm not good anymore. I was never good in the first place, but now I'm even worse than I ever was. I am gonna have to leave, soon. I'm sorry that I am not good enough. I just wish I could be a better person. I don't see why anyone would ever be around me. I just hate everything about myself. I am never going to like a thing about me. I'm never going to be good enough. I was a mistake. I still am a mistake. My depression is going to take me over. It has already begun. I'm slowly isolating myself. It makes everything more damaging to others than myself. They don't know why I keep doing this. I don't understand myself either. I'm losing interest in everything I do now. I don't want to move. I'm wanting to eat less and less. My self-esteem is lowering way more. I'm not sure what I am going to do anymore. Please, just take me out of this life. I am not needed here. I'm just a giant waste of space. It would be better for everyone to just give up on me. Please, let me **** myself. It would be so much better for everyone. I'm wasting everyone's time. I shouldn't have been born. I'm not wanted here. I really wish I had blades again. There was a point where I didn't need them. Now I don't see the point in life. I can't feel the pain from my nails. I just can't keep hurting people anymore by my presence. I'm too loud or too quiet. There is no in between. I'm too mean to everyone. I shouldn't think about myself. I'm too self centered. I'm fat and ugly. I am not talented. Never have been. I cause my own friends to go into depression. I bring out everyone's bad side. I'm never going to be a good person. I'm so sorry that I am such a disappointment. I realized that there is no hope for me. It would be better for everyone else if they walked out my life and never look back. I can't even laugh without it making me feel worse about myself. I just should've never been born. I shouldn't have came into Abby's life. I have made her worse. I made her feel unloved, mistreated, and everything she should never feel. I'm not good enough of a friend to get over how I feel and be happy. I'm a lost cause. This is all my fault. She thought she could change me. Everyone thinks that they can change and help me. There is no help. I'm so far gone. I'm never going to get out of depression. It is always going to drag me down. I'm not strong enough to handle things anymore. I'm tired of always feeling alone in the darkness of my mind and body. I lost one person that was making me even semi-happy. Ever since the day I gave away some happiness I could've used, I have been alittle more broken. How many times until I break so much that I will never be fixed again. How much more pain do I have to go through? Please, just make it all end right now. I don't know if I can take more pain.
Oct 2018 · 93
I can't go on.
Paula Putnam Oct 2018
The light makes me want to run to find the darkness again. Everyone is just going to leave eventually and I just can't be hurt anymore. If I continue this way, I'm going to lose my mind even more. Maybe they were truly right about how I should **** myself. It would be so much better for everyone that way. I can't take not feeling wanted anymore. I try to be so  happy just to please people. I can't live in this world  anymore. I just want to escape and I know they only way. The way that blade touched my wrist the other day. That's my only way out of this this pain. I just wish I could do it right now. I will finally be with the people I have lost. I will finally be free from all the pain everyone causes. No one can keep these things away from me anymore. I found new ways to hurt myself and it is so addicting. I'm just ready to be gone from everything. That's why I stay alone and never want to talk. They hurt me without even thinking about it. I hear the things they say and it hurts. I can't even feel the blades sliding across my wrists causing blood to pour out. It's an addicting feeling that I can't get anywhere else. I don't know when my last night will come, but I honestly hope it happens so soon. I can't deal with this anymore. I've tried for far too long to be happy and now I am giving up on trying. So, if this is the last thing I write. I am honestly sorry I can't do better than this. I am sorry that I can't be the person anyone wants me to be. I'm sorry that I am not beautiful or talented in anyway. I'm just a disgrace. I'm sorry for all the pain.
Do not take this wrong. I just write random stories.
Oct 2018 · 69
Untitled
Paula Putnam Oct 2018
They put me on medicine and I dont feel normal anymore. I feel like a monster. Plus the medicine isn't working. I just wish I knew what to do. I just want to die and don't know why it won't stop. I worry too much and don't know how I am supposed to handle all of this. Problems spring up everywhere. A good percent of my friends are suicidal. It bothers me so much. I just want to save them. I don't want to lose them. They are the only reason that I am alive. I'm breaking each day and no one can tell. It just hurts so much.

— The End —