.𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞,𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

.just believe him.

"I wanted to talk about it.
Damn it.
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to yell.
I wanted to shout about it.
But all I could do was whisper, 'I'm fine.'"

- The Oxytonics

🔸🔹

It's been three days, I was discharged from hospital. I have trapped myself in my room, this is my little wonderland now, the land of thornes, with every second passing by, hurting me more. I don't really know what I feel, this sadness, the anxiety is haunting me. This feeling, I have to carry it around even though I don't want to.

Mom walked in the room, many times to see if I was okay.

But how can I be Okay? Who can expect me to be Okay? Somebody seriously needs to explain me the meaning of being Okay. Right now, I'm anything but Okay! I have this fucking Phobia. I want to get rid of it but whenever Liam or his friends come to see me, I get scared, like they are here to touch me, molest me, use me and make me feel what a low grade I'm. I know they care for me, but it's not easy for me to forget about that night. The night that changed everything for me. The way that guy tried to touch me, I feel disgusted to feel the touch of my own hand on the skin. The darkness in his eyes, reminded me off why in the first place I hate dark.

After that, I've tried to clean myself as much as I could, I used every soap, I tried lavender, grapefruit, rose and honeysuckle...but that horrible scent was still on my hair, my skin, my soul, it is still there. The scent of him, I still could feel his hand, his touch on me, like he would come back to me, to hurt me, and complete whatever was stopped back then...he wanted to finish me.

Dad calls me after every two hours to check on me. I honestly love talking to him. He gives me strength. He wanted to come here, but I asked him not to. He cannot see me like this, too fragile to handle with care. Sarah and Micah even called me and they told me that they will come to see me soon. I don't need many people around me, they suffocate me.

It's six in the morning and I'm wide awake. Insomnia haunts my nights; my mind then occupies all the dark memories, I want to let them go, think about the good times, but then I wonder, will I ever have my good times? When I finally sleep, I wake after only a couple of fitful hours and wake as if a whole night had passed, but it hasn't.

Last night was the same, I couldn't sleep because those nightmare kept haunting me, those scenes in the dream, like they were playing in real life. I see the guy all over, coming to my bed, hands around my throat to prevent me from screaming. He does his work, leaves me naked to cry my heart out.

Once I woke up with sweat on my forehead and my heart beating faster than ever, I cried again. The tears won't stop falling and I knew I also cried because I couldn't stop crying. I've been turning into a mess.