This isn't a One Shot, it's just something I wrote.
I was a normal girl. Happy, and carefree. At least that’s what everyone else thought.
I always felt bad, I hid it, because “a good girl does not get angry, because if she gets angry, it ruins everything”. Words of my mother.
I lived for years supporting all evil. Until one day, I could not help. I wanted to mourn but it was not enough, I wanted to discuss, hit and thousands of things, but it was not enough. Nothing was enough, all I could do was scream.
I screamed and screamed, I tore my throat, I cried so hard, from the soul, such was my shout that tore my skin.
All they could do was sew my mouth.
Thus, I wasn’t the same. I didn’t laugh, no talking, singing, much less scream. From that moment I was alone, because who would want to join the girl in the mouth sewn? But at some point I acquired a mate. Until now I have him. He have not mentioned his name and surname, I just know that one day, he appear from the shadows to accompany me. His hair is brown, honey-colored eyes several inches shorter than me in height. Silent as himself, he opens his mouth to sing me lullabies and give me encouragement when I want to fall. He visits me all nights. He lie nesxt to me on the bed and sings to me until I fall asleep, then he goes away. I don’t know where, until the next night. Sometimes when we're all alone, he pulls out of his pocket a knife and open my seams. Even, in my memory, he have kissed me, despite the rough stringers to heal my wounds will brush against the skin. At other times, he tries to make me eat or drink something, he also makes me talk and is a comfort to remember the sound of my voice. He tries to make me sing. Ever tried to make me laugh by tickling, but he could not. I've forgotten how to laugh ... for years I have not laughed... not really. Not since then.