Dressed To Kill

Chapter 7- Scars

hello my lovelies,

I hope you had a great day today and if not, I promise you there will be better times.

This chapter is very different but I hope you like it.

I will update from now on every second to third day!

Next chapter will have twice the amount of words.

Have fun reading and always remember that you are amazing and enough.

I love you, bye.

Adriano Calvetti

What is pain?

When you ask this question, most people will immediately think of physical pain. As examples, they will give you headaches, stomach aches or maybe burns, and this answer says a lot about a person.

It shows how a human being thinks, what they have experienced and how they deal with trauma.

Their darkest secrets can be revealed if you just listen.

The problem is that nobody does.

The people who would think of mental pain would describe the suffering caused by their fellow human beings or the feeling they felt when their parents were disappointed in them.

I am one of those people.

Hardly anyone has experienced such strong physical pain in their younger years as I did and yet I would never think of these injuries but the moments when I felt so alone that I screamed so loudly just to make it seem like I was not.

So, when I hear this question I remember the little boy in the bathroom, travelling his gaze over the mirror and looking at the suffering in his bloodshot eyes, the tears running down his cheeks as he saw himself pleading in silence not to give up and to be stronger.

I can still feel the ache in my heart that I felt when I saw my reflection.

Only one person could have taken this suffering away from me but the people you care the most about will always be the ones who give you the most pain and that is true because nothing could ever be compared to her betrayal.

Mental pain must be the devil's revenge on me.

But of course, I would never give this answer, because in my world you are nobody as soon as you feel and that is the reason why they will never know about him.

I will take this secret with me to the grave.

I am sitting upright on my bed; the room is full of darkness and the only sound I can hear is my breathing and the ticking of the clock hanging on the wall. It is already 4 a.m. and I could not close my eyes yet, but I do not want that either.

Not if my demons continue to chase me in my dreams.

I lift my tired body off the bed and get up. A sharp pain runs down my back and I close my eyes to control my breathing.

Who am I fooling?

I love how it burns.

Still in the dark, I go to the bathroom and open the door. I turn the light of the room on and walk towards the enormous mirror that hangs on the wall across from the shower. The entire room is black or kept in dark shades of grey and everything around me is made of marble or glass.

I look into the face of the man standing in front of me and it seems like he is a stranger.

What if he is exactly that?

Foreign.

Someone you do not understand and cannot control.

Someone who can only be feared.