//------------------------------// // Entry #027 (Final) // Story: Silent: Windy Chyme's Story // by Phoenix Heart 27 //------------------------------// Dear Diary, I’m weak. I can’t even lift my hooves, therefore I’m mouthwriting this, my….final entry. What a way to spend a birthday huh? I have been depressed for months. I haven't eaten or drank in too long. My dad had came home about 2 months ago for a few days. As soon as he came into the apartment, I was ready with my gun. I lunged at him with my gun at the ready and I started shooting like a mad mare...wich in retrospect I was. Of course, he was prepared and while he did get like 3 bullets in him (unfortunately, none were in his head) he was defensive. He slapped the gun out my hoof, yelled at me about having the gun and then I ended up doing, something I never thought I’d do. I cried. In front of him. Just started bawling my eyes out. He was surprised, but otherwise didn't care. He told me he had food for me, but since I attacked him, he withheld it. Tying me to the bathroom door tightly with rope again, he sat there with his bull whip and the food. Anytime I’d so much as move, he use it and I’d end up cut up bad on my face, neck, chest and sides. It was horrible and by that point when he left, I managed to get free of the rope and I ran (with what strength I had) into the bathroom and I almost swallowed some pills of my dads. I still don’t know why I didn’t, but I guess it doesn't matter now. I’m dying. There’s no doubt about that. I can feel everything slipping. Hey. At least it won’t be so bad and hey! Just think, when I finally pass into the next life, I’ll be reunited with my beloved and our daughter. I also will be able to see my mother and grandmare again. I know they’ll be happy to see me…. I’m so tired now, but I will write one. Last. Thing. Thank you Tracy. You and Veronica have been my most trusted confidants and best of friends since I was 5 years old. I’ve already written what I have to say to those who need to see it. I love you. I have Bubby in my hooves and I’m…..so….sleepy….. Goodbye, Windy Nichole Chyme-Zap (age 16)