Resting on my bed in the hospital looking at the fan rolling above me, effortlessly and freely, I wished I'd be free to do just that.
The last few months have been extremely horrible for me, sorry did I say horrible I bet it's an understatement.
You'd get to understand why I've made some decisions I'm not proud of, but that was the only route of escape I could find, wherever I turned was met with a dead end.
Waking up each day was horrific, sometimes I laid back and held my breath as long as possible trying to suffocate myself, I dunked my head into the bathtub and tried drowning myself to death, but here I am still, a living dead.
The disgust on my parent's faces whenever they looked at me is still boldly imprinted in my head, whenever I decided to take a walk, there were faces everywhere staring at me, mockery, pity, and scorn written all over their faces, they judged me and spat at me in spite.
I can take what others do to me, but what crushed my soul was what my family thought of me.
I stood up and went into the bathroom, looked at myself in the mirror, touched my bandaged wrist, and stared at my loose, large, and cool gray shirt towering over my wide-legged oversize pants.
Standing there I just thought of how good my life was before and how it changed overnight.
YOU ARE READING
Hi, My name is NANCY and I am a VICTIM
General FictionShe was once a bubbly, ambitious, smart, and goal-driven young lady but all of a sudden she became a shadow of herself. Smiles ceased to appear, nothing appeased her anymore, there was no twinkle in her eyes, and she became a walking dead. How doe...
