Scars of the soul_Oh, September!_"Hymns Of Sorrow"_December 22, 1974 by Anastasia Lutt
Catalog Guide:
Scars of the soul
That’s the thing about this city, it’s the place I hate the most and yet the one I can’t imagine leaving. Everything is exactly where it’s supposed to be, everything is where it’s always been. I’m the one who doesn’t fit. Everyone has an opinion on who I am and who I’m supposed to be. But how can others know me, if I don’t know myself? “She’s too perfect” “Why doesn’t she live a little?” “She needs to relax” “She’s so overdramatic” BUT HOW WOULD YOU KNOW? How can you know what it feels like? How would you know how it feels to be ashamed of your own reflection? To want to scrape your skin away,...
Oh, September!
“Babe, only a month to go. Thirty short days, and then you’ll be Mrs Pippa Peters!” said Mike Peters as he stroked her bare muscled back.“Are you trying to sing?” asked Pippa.“I can’t sing, but if I could, I’d sing for you.”“You are sweet, are you murdering my favourite Johnny Winter song? ‘Gonna give you thirty days to get back home. Gonna talk to the gypsy woman gonna tell her so, She gonna put out a worldwide voodoo, That'll be the very thing that'll suit you, Gonna see that you be back home in thirty days’. Is that the one you mean? Am I a gipsy with the power to entrance you?” she laughe...
"Hymns Of Sorrow"
Title 1: "Rebela"She held up the flower with tempting hands and inhaled its fumes with rising anticipation. A sweet savory smell poured into her nostrils pleasing every sense of self she could muster. She looked at the flower; eyes staring with wide pupils. The sunlight poured into her eyes and got lost in the abyss the pupil's darkness. She could feel the rush of blood around her heart. She gazed upon its white membrane like petals that danced around purple branch like stems protruding from the center and held it gently around its green stwww.onedoor.ccem. The flower resonated within her hand, as if please...
December 22, 1974 by Anastasia Luttgens
Dear Readers,I am writing a letter to you all so you know my story. I want you to know so you can protect yourself so it doesn't happen to you. You don't know who I am and that is probably for the best. I am not somebody that you want consider your friend. Now, let me tell you about what happened to me in my very house on December 22, `1974、Mother, father, Julie, Jake, and I had all just finished supper. Our butler Romeo took our plates and headed towards the kitchen. Father told us to go upstairs and head straight to bed. The next day was supposed to be exciting. We were supposed to go to Dis...