"fuck you."
the drops of whiskey dripped down my arm from where he'd beaten me senseless with the broken shards
drip
drip
drip
went the blood.
"you ungrateful bitch," he slurred,
stalking towards me as i attempted to plaster myself into the wall, in which his fist remained,
camouflage
with the
bro ken
and
non-living.
"don't be scared, now. you weren't scared when you were sleeping around, were you?"
YOU ARE READING
touched ✓
Short Storystory #2 in the 'for the flawed' series. tw | abuse every night you held me. making me feel disgusting, because you were the s e c o n d to touch me. © 2014 flawed- (lowercase intended for stylistic purposes.) [Jan 16, 2015:: #2 in short story.]
