𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 |𝟏𝟖+

52 || Puppy Shit

Song: The Weeknd - Hurt You (slowed + reverb)

𝔚𝔚𝔚

What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger.

Its a saying as old as time, one thats held true for thousands, something that's been advised throughout generations.

If only it held true for Flora.

You see, she'd had a hard life back home and when she'd gotten to America, that life had somehow gotten worse.

El gringo had disappeared just as quickly as he'd appeared, leaving her in the hands of men who were nothing but horrible towards her. Men that'd used and sold her into a life of prostitution.

But it wasn't the exchange of her body that took a toll on her. It was the lack of ownership she had over her own body and how little she was compensated for it.

She'd learned quickly after coming to America that while el gringo wasn't an American, the men who worked for him were.

And these American men were terrible. Far worse than any man she'd ever encountered. They used, manipulated, punished and threatened to get their way.

She was nothing but a commodity to them. One that was to be bought and borrowed by men at a price - a price that they'd take ninety percent of and leave her with crumbs.

And this cycle was never ending, day in and night, until Flora did the only thing she could do.

She found an escape.

And as time went on, this escape had morphed into something far worse and plaguing.

It didn't kill her, bur it didn't make her stronger either. It weakened her will to deal with the real world, until she was nothing but a washed up addict that no one wanted anymore. 

But like I'd once said, this story isn't about her. It's about her baby boy.

He was merely five when he watched it all happen. He was six when he realized she was sick. And those American men were to blame. And he was seven when el gringo came knocking on his mamá's door, with an offer she couldn't refuse.

𝔚𝔚𝔚
Josie

Screw Nico Blaine.

Not for all the damage he'd done to my heart when he'd kicked me out, but for everything that came after.

I told him I was leaving. And I did.

The power had eventually come back on, and the man stood in the elevator, his eyes glued to me as I left him without another word.

I thought that was it.

We were finally done.

Until I started running into him.

When I would step into the elevator, he'd already be in there. When I was walking to class, he'd just so happen to be walking in the same direction. When I was out applying  for jobs, he was taking smoke breaks right outside, blatantly staring at me through the window.