"Why do you have so many scars?"
The unfamiliar boy seated next to me at the bus stop bench asked.
I felt ashamed.
I felt hideous.
I stayed silent.
"You're too pretty to hurt yourself."
I prayed for him to go away.
But praying never really worked for me.
If it worked I wouldn't be so fucked up in the head.
And he would still love me.
The boy just stared at me.
All my insecurities gathered into a thought and exploded in my mind.
"Oh my bus is here."
He said with a smile, a crooked smile.
I'm so fucking deranged.
YOU ARE READING
SINS
Short Storysin noun plural noun: sins an immoral act considered to be a transgression against divine law. - Even the demons in her mind are afraid of her thoughts. ** THIS SHORT STORY CONTAINS TRIGGERS. READ AT YOUR OWN WILL. ** Copyrighted. © feb2015-mar2015
