Secret-Keeper

Secret Keeper

The girl looks around her room and wonders at all the secrets it must keep. This room had seen her through so many problems. It had heard her night time confession for years. It had seen her cry, it had seen her laugh. Her room.
The room holds so many secrets. It is her confessional, the silent witness to all of her deeds. The room is her secret-keeper.
Her room had been witness to her utter destruction when her father left. She had lain upon the dark blue carpet, worn down so thin it was almost transparent in places. Those nights where she must have called and called for her father would forever be imprinted on the room. The room had heard her secret wish; bring him back. For years that wish would be her secret desire, until eventually she convinced herself she didn’t want him back. She would tell her friends that she was better off without him and that if he came back now he’d shatter the peace they lived in. For years she would tell herself that lie, but the room knew her secret. She would always love her father; she would always want him back.
The room holds so many secrets. It is her confessional, the silent witness to all of her deeds. The room is her secret-keeper.
The room was there, watching and waiting as she fell to the floor sobbing. It heard her wordless cries. The room could feel her frustration, her confusion, her anger. The room watched as the girl decides to do something reckless to hurt everyone, a childish act, a tantrum. The room waits with baited breathe as the girl gets out her scissors. The silence, stretched taut and bursting with tension, is broken only by the low hiss of the girl as the blade slices her skin.
The room holds so many secrets. It is her confessional, the silent witness to all of her deeds. The room is her secret-keeper.
The room heard all of her whispers, all of her wishes. The room watches as the girl stares at the stark beauty of the night. She opens her window, letting the fresh spring breeze float in, rich with the scent of oncoming rain. The room is witness to the fervent wish that she could know what to do.
“Please God, show me the right decision, and let me know it is right.”
The room alone knows that she is not content with her life, that she was wishing for so much more.
The room holds so many secrets. It is her confessional, the silent witness to all of her deeds. The room is her secret-keeper.
The room listens to the phone conversations she has. It listens to her explain her decision, and it hears the friend’s sympathy and understanding. The room alone knows that as soon as the decision is done, she is longer sure of her path. The room watches the girl in the next weeks, seeing her resolve crumble. The room is the only one who knows that the girl is too weak to stick to her decision.
The room holds so many secrets. It is her confessional, the silent witness to all of her deeds. The room is her secret-keeper.
The room has watched the past months, seeing the depression worsen. A new secret is eating the girl now. This secret, unlike so many others, cannot be silenced. Speaking to the room provides the girl with no release. The secret stays inside, untold to the one person who needs to hear. The girl can tell all the others, she can tell the room and her friends. The girl can be bold enough to wear her heart on her sleeve, but still the secret is cannibalising her.
The room alone is wise enough to know that the secret needs out, now. The room is the only one who knows that whatever the fall out, the secret has to be unleashed and the girl could sleep without crying again.
The room holds so many secrets. It is her confessional, the silent witness to all of her deeds. The room is her secret-keeper.

Secret-Keeper

BellaRose

Joined December 2008

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desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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