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𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆: 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐭 𝐛𝐲 𝐓𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐭
...🏀...
𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓, 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋
𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐋 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟓
The rain poured in sheets, drenching the world in a downpour. I could feel it soaking into my clothes, my hair plastered to my scalp, cold droplets sliding down my skin.
But I didn't move.
I didn't even shiver.
I just lay there, flat on my back on the balcony, eyes closed against the weight of it all, letting the storm wash over me. The numbness crept in, slow and steady, like the rain itself, dulling the edges of everything I had been holding onto for so long.
I focused on the rhythm of the rain hitting the ground, its steady patter somehow calming in its chaos. But no matter how hard I tried to stay in that sound, my mind kept betraying me. It replayed Andrew's attack in flashes—his voice, his hands, the terror that had gripped me. I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, trying to push it all away. It felt like I was drowning in it, the fear, the memory, the weight of everything I couldn't outrun.
The balcony door creaked open, and I heard soft but deliberate footsteps approaching me. I didn't open my eyes. I didn't need to.
I knew it was Brooke.
"Mylah."
Her voice was gentle, but there was an unshakable strength beneath it. I didn't respond.
I couldn't.
I didn't have the energy to speak, move, or do anything but exist in this moment of numbness. Brooke didn't push me. She lowered herself beside me, lying on the cold, wet ground, letting the rain hit her, too. For a few moments, neither of us said anything. Just the sound of rain, its steady beat against the world.
"You're a survivor, Mylah," Brooke finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. "And a fighter."
I bit down hard on my lip, keeping my eyes shut. I didn't feel like either of those things.
I felt broken.
Andrew had found me, hurt me again, and I hadn't stopped him.
"Survivor?" I whispered, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. "I don't feel like one."
Brooke shifted beside me, the weight of her presence grounding me in a way I wasn't expecting. "You fought him off," she said, her voice firmer now. "You got away. That's what matters."
I didn't answer. I couldn't shake the feeling that I hadn't really gotten away.
Not from Andrew. Not from the fear that gripped me every time I thought about what could have happened.
