I've learned to cherish the small moments of peace in life after everything that's happened to me. The night after the report of my father's death, I ran away from my foster family, gun in pocket, ready to step away from everything.
I remember trudging down the old rock roads and sitting down next to a rushing creek in tall grass. The reeds brushed against my face and my hand rested on my gun in my pocket as an occasional rustle came from the bushes. I was hidden near the forest, the trees sheltering me as though I was finally home where I was supposed to be.
I remember sitting there for hours, entranced by the consistent flow of the creek and the little fish that swam through it. I wondered how something like that could continue to thrive throughout everything, each season and animal that came through it.
I fell asleep on the flat rocks next to the water to the calming noise of water running, the stars twinkling above my head. The silence of the night, the cool air that brushed my face. Then I woke up in my old bed, old sheets wrapped around me and windows nailed shut.
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The Playlist of Traumas
Short StoryA girl tells her most horrible traumas and the story of her life through short paragraphs inspired by different songs. TW: suicide, rape, sh, intrusive thoughts, murder, shooting, abuse spotify- fionnaj the playlist is called "🤷🏼♀️"
