I still have that picture.
I do not want to forgive what happened.
Forgiving would kill me even more.
In two weeks, I will be home. I will never see him again. Hopefully. As important as it was for me, I am not going to see him again. I suffer enough to still go to school with him. As soon I will be back in Italy, I do not even want to think about him.
Maybe time will pay me back for all the pain I suffered. For all the tears that dried my soul. Maybe time will pay him back for all the pain he caused. For all the tears cried for him.
But maybe, my destiny chose to make me live all of this. It knew I could have deal with it. Well, fun fact, I am not making it. I talked. I talked for myself. I did the right thing. The right thing.
YOU ARE READING
Survival
Short StoryJust me talking about a story. My story. This book is aimed at all victims of harassment. You do not have to speak up if you do not feel so. I decided to do it because I do not want other people to live what I lived, and I know that things like that...
