Zenaida| A month later 6:00pm, (New Hampshire)
I laid in my dorm bed scrolling through tiktoks before getting tired and deciding to reactive my Instagram.
I purposely deactivated it before I left South Carolina because I didn't want nor did I need anybody contacting me about what took place.
It may have seemed selfish just leaving without an goodbye but I had to, I didn't need any of the guys finding out and ending up killing somebody or just the worst, I didn't need any of it and I damn sure didn't need the degrading and down talk my mom would've gave me.
To her out of my brother and i she always looked at me as the problem child, despite all of my brother's wrong doings I was the one she called whores and any disgusting word in the book which made me wonder sometimes if she hated me.
She gave me many reasons to believe so, she just never had the courage to say it I guess. I mean no child would wants to up front know that their mom or parent hate them.
I sniffled wiping my face that I didn't even know was wet until I snapped out of my head looking at my locked phone screen covered in tear drops.
"Shit.." I mumbled to myself breaking down completely, to tell you the truth I hadn't since the sexual acts Qwondo performed on me I just couldn't wrap my mind around it, I felt disgusted and disappointed with myself.
Vivid images flooded my mind with the events that took place that night, it's crazy how you can go from being giddy to feeling like shit within a matter of minutes.
Times like this I wish my father was still alive, He made me feel safe and he was someone I always could confide in even if he wasn't doing so well he would always listen and sing tunes telling me everything would be fine as I cried to him about my problems.
Unlike my mother he was proud of me, he cared and never put me down about myself. Yet he was gone, the one I could confide in the most was gone and I couldn't just call him and express how I feel about any of this shit.
Huffing i wiped my tears that flowed uncontrollably as my leg shook, I hated crying and I hated being hurt but right now I had no choice but to feel them both in this moment besides I needed to get this out before my roommate returned from whatever she was doing, I didn't want any sympathy.
With everything going on I couldn't help but to think Twondo helped his brother, it would make sense because he was the one that invited us out anyways like what are the odds?
I chuckled to myself shaking my head biting my lower lip to keep from crying again, But it just all felt surreal, why me? I didn't deserve this shit at all.
Tossing my phone aside I got up and walked over to my dresser and reached under it grabbing a box full of old photos and gadgets I kept from home.
Rummaging through the old photos my finger swiped passed a photo of me my brother and my dad making me stare at it in awe.
It was when I was 13 a year before my father passed away due to losing a battle to cancer, it sucked that he wasn't here witness a lot of me and brother's accomplishments but I guess it's a thing called life.
Looking at the picture under it I frowned seeing a picture of me and Qwondo at the age of 9 he had his arm around my shoulder and we were smiling big for the camera.
