Promise The Stars {by} We The Kings
---MY AUDITION...I'll conclude asap!

+ Charlotte Agost-Winheim
+ the depressed ballerina
+ Charlotte is currently living in a crammed home. She is always trying to wear that believable smile on her face everywhere she goes, except when she's alone, all she wants to do is drown herself, find a way to isolate from all feelings and thoughts. There is no one around to help her. Inside, she feels everything is senseless, nothing is worth living for. She thinks her only cure is her ballet. Since girls don't go to school, she has taught herself. Is she dancing correctly? Who knows?! She doesn't seem to care anymore. Another gentle step, and maybe she just may finish herself off.
+ overly violent family
+ Paulina G.
+ @thunder-dollfaycee



My parents. Must I even explain the bruises and scars I have left from head-to-toe ? 

Life is a joke; At least mine is. Everyday I feel the same; Stuck and I can never change. Its nothing new, its like dejavu - a never ending cycle. What have I done to deserve such mistreatment? Its as if the world holds so much anger towards me. And I, only I can feel the pain. Sometimes I get used to the beatings of the old fellows. My parents. Known as the most violent adults in Bakersfield. 

"Charlotte, don't forget to wash my clothes! And my shoes better be shiny and ready to wear!" mother called as I was scraping the gum off her slippers

"Dear mother! Is it one day that you and I will just be quiet and abandon the arguments?!" I yelled and threw my cleaning supplies out the window.

"You pick that up or you will be lucky to have a life!" She said with a possessed look in her eyes.

"Yes I know!" I said.


And there it was. As her hand pressed on my face; her other hand was busy engraving her knuckles into my eyelids. And all I feel is numbness. It is as if I'm floating in the land of my dreams. Except, mother, and father, and everyone keeps showing up! They are reminding me to step back into reality where pain truly is victor. And everyone is cruel and heartless.

I regained my conscience. I was there, just plainly laying on my hammock. I reached for my poorly crafted ballet slippers. As I stretched my hands out, someone kicked my way into the restroom where I used to hide.


It was father. He kicked my spine, damn his steel toed boots! I had tried to scream, but whats the use? Nobody truly would come for MY help; but only to join in with his violent manners. For a good five minutes, he rested his feet. I managed to drag myself out and take my slippers in hand.

I was limping; but nobody ever notices me. I'm just fresh meat...since I was born... When will I become rancid to them?, I wonder. Father was on his way. I was already locked inside my closet and grabbed my blades. I had always found an escape in this closet. The only place my parents hadn't abused me in. It is like a small, tidy, sanctuary. I pray and pray, but then I cut, and I can't stop anymore!

I have already created a hemorrhagic puddle! I prayed that this could be my end. My sad, tortured end. All this suffering will finally be over. I collapsed.

I woke up; Once again on the floor. This time I was drowned in my own blood. Laying in my closet marble floors. I had my hands gripped on my blades, and the others in my slippers. 

"WHY?!" I whispered

"God, may you spare me, before papa does it instead, please" I whispered repeatedly
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