Resilience

34| The Memories of 'Him'

ARABELLA'S POV

(A/N - Guys, this chapter deals with a really sensitive subject, and I do not mean to offend or insult anyone in any way.

If there's some words and sentences that are triggering or have hurt anyone, I would like to deeply apologise, and if you feel like a certain part should not be here, then let me know, and I'd edit it out.

Love💖
~Swati)

I managed to lose fragments within myself, in the course of time at various points in my life.

I've lost parts of my inner self when I went down to the deepest and darkest pothole of my life.

I lost my innocence and sanctity when I traveled through the evil and toxic hearts of those around me.

I lost a piece of myself in search for the one thing that will finally lead me to happiness.

I feel like I was finally crawling my way to redemption only to lose myself once again.

I am ready to plead and beg for the nightmares to end, to finally wake up one day without feeling any sort of pain.

I may have only gotten an hour or two of sleep before waking up from another nightmare.

The memories of him.

The torment he had inflicted on me,

The torture that he had put me through,

The hell that I had been trying to run away from.

Cora and John had managed to hurt me in ways I never would have imagined a parent would do to their children, but 'He' managed to break me thoroughly.

He was the one who ripped my dignity and shredded it right in front of me, mocking my every essence of self worth I had, leaving me crippled to pick up the broken shards of hope that he managed to claw off of me.

I'm not sure if I would ever be able to coexist and survive through the nightmares that he managed to implant deeper into the stems of my brain.

He left behind everlasting memories of terrors that had now been overtaken by nothing but dark clouds of depression, which had successfully managed in fading any hope of will that I had left to continue.

But I had regained hope, and my new family gave me the courage to pick up the million broken pieces of myself, all of them had been understanding and supportive, helping me fight my inner battles with the love and presence they surround me with.

And while I had begun to convince myself that it was not my fault, that I had done absolutely nothing to deserve it, that I was still innocent, still pure, but the humiliation that I felt always managed to sabotage any progress I made.

It was difficult to forget, but recalling it again was even more daunting.

The constant fright of something like that to happen again, was something I had still not outgrown, which was one of the reasons I'm nearly never comfortable with someone touching me.

I was embarrassed to accept what had happened to me. If I don't think or talk about it then it didn't happen, is how I learnt to move past that horrific moment.