17 || just a girl

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If teardrops could be bottledThere'd be swimming pools filled by modelsTold a tight dress is what makes you a whore- idontwannabeyouanymore, Billie Eilish

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If teardrops could be bottled
There'd be swimming pools filled by models
Told a tight dress is what makes you a whore
- idontwannabeyouanymore, Billie Eilish

If teardrops could be bottledThere'd be swimming pools filled by modelsTold a tight dress is what makes you a whore- idontwannabeyouanymore, Billie Eilish

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

August 4th 2008
Stark Mansion, Malibu

Sometime in the early morning, I manage to find a cab to drop me off at home. It's pitch-black and I wander down the long driveway slow as I possibly can. There are a few lights on in the house and Pepper's car is parked at the front. I don't fancy talking to her right now, so I walk around the side to the entrance to Dad's workshop.

I don't really care if he's in. He's probably the only person who can make me feel any better right now. 

When I get inside, he's not there, which I'm not particularly fussed about either. With tears relentlessly rolling down my red and blotchy cheeks, I start to wander up the stairs but see Pepper sitting on the sofa, so I silently retreat again. As I sit back down on the couch in Dad's lab, the silence seems to drown me.

If only.

The sweet bliss of drowning would be better than this. Better than sitting here knowing his hands have been on me. His lips scar every inch of my body, marking me as his conquest. His lips scar every inch of my body, showing the world that I'm weak. That I'm just what everyone takes me for.

That I'm just a girl.

I ran off to S.H.I.E.L.D and I told myself that I was doing it to be a better person and I was doing it to find some purpose outside of the material world around myself. I was lying though. I pushed myself to the breaking point because I liked it. I liked the pain and I liked not having everyone fall at my feet. I liked not being Aurelia Stark. I liked to pretend I'm not just a weak little girl, whose sole purpose on Earth is to always be second to some man.

My eyes find the blue ocean out the windows and I once again wish to be buried miles down in its turquoise liquid. To have the salty water wash every trace of him off my body. To have the salty water wash every memory of his touch away. To have the salty water wash every trace of me away.

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