✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩ 𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.
..⃗. ☁️ 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐦.
"Why are you always looking down? My face is right up here."...
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❥ "There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you." ❥
TW: Talks about abuse and attempted rape.
CATALINA
About a year ago...
"Get up you nasty bitch!" The smell of his putrid breath violated my nostrils.
I let my uncle drag me up from the pile of cloth I was sleeping on and deliver a harsh slap to my face. I bit my lip, drawing blood from it, and swallowed the pain.
"On the floor! Now!" He barely gave me time to move before his fat, rough hand pulled onto the thick strands of my hair, throwing me onto the ground I was just on.
"Please- please don't hurt me anymore! I'm so- so sorry," I pathetically begged him to stop. I did not know what I was apologizing for. Maybe it was for my existence or maybe it was for being such a hassle to take care of.
He didn't stop. No matter how much I begged, pleaded, and apologized he showed me no mercy. It was as if he got off to the fact that he was slowly killing me.
With one final kick to my side, he spat on me with his thick saliva and left the room.
The agony finally set in and I screamed into the palm of my hand. Dry blood tainted my body from beatings I received several days ago and it tasted bitter.
My cries were silenced by the quickness of my breath and icky snot gathered up in my nose, making it even harder to breathe.
As hot tears traveled down my cracked skin, I fixated my stare to the broken ceiling of the attic.
The laughter from the family who was supposed to love me could be heard in the background of my screaming mind.
I had already graduated high-school a year early, at sixteen years old. That meant that I had no excuse to leave the house anymore, I was trapped.
Everyday I held my breath in anticipation, I didn't know what was going to happen to me next. Whether my uncle would beat me, his wife would throw nasty words at me, or if the brothers would touch me.
This family was sick.
I was their little toy, something they could let out all their pent up frustrations on.
Looking in the mirror scared me. My natural tan skin has sunken into a color so lifeless, i'm surprised I haven't died yet. The fire in my eyes are dim, on the verge of being blown away and leaving me all alone in the darkness.
