Dimitri and I continued to walk. I tried to hide myself from him. I pulled my sleeves down to cover my scarred arms hoping that maybe, just maybe, he hadn't already noticed. I was so ashamed of my scars. I wasn't ashamed of how I got them, but I was ashamed of why and how I let things get that far. The thought of people knowing about what I do to myself made me want to break down and cry, and in my household, that wasn't acceptable.
My family had always taught me that my problems are my problems, and are not to be shared with anyone else. And that had been my way of life ever since. I never let anyone in, just myself. It was basically me against the world. My father had taught me that the more you keep things in, the less they hurt. And for the most part, this was true. But keeping things in doesn't resolve the problems, it just makes them bigger, therefor the pain increases and your world comes crashing down.
The rest of our walk was silent. That's when all of my thoughts came into play.
Dimitri and I had finally made it to my house. He walked me to the door and stopped. We stared into each others eyes for a moment, but I broke the gaze we held.
"I should get going. My parents are probably wondering where I am."
I agreed and watched him turn and walk away. His hand brushed mine and I immediately stepped back. I wasn't ok with touching people. Touching involved caring and that wasn't something I was willing to do.
YOU ARE READING
Dirty Little Secrets
JugendliteraturI'm not sure what the description of this story of mine should be, all I can say is that I can promise it will keep your interest. It will teach you and help you through hardships in life. Not everything in life is all that bad. Especially when you'...
