"where were you, dammit?" his breath trapping me in a layer of irrational fog.
like he'd been smoking.
the alcohol on his breath as a sign
of him chugging whiskey
straight
from
the bottle.
"you've been with that kid again? i swear to god, i'll shoot your little boyfriend and won't think twice about it."
the gleaming metal held in his bitter,
bleeding,
clenched hands.
"i'll kill him."
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.]
