Short stories

Ive had an eventful life- 🖤🖤🖤

This entire chapter is just angst-

Literally do not read if you hate
Blood
Rape
Trauma in general
A lot of these are unfinished so don't mind the short ones lol

Word count: 1580

My neck. (My ex)

My neck bleeds from your claws, my neck cries and aches as blood trickles down it. Your hands soak in my blood as you betray me and strangle me. "Why would you do this?" I manage with tears in my eyes. You simply laugh, no pity at all within those heartless eyes. You felt nothing as you sat on me. You didn't care that you were sucking out my own life as you dug your claws into my skin. You shredded and pulled apart my neck. Why would you do this? What made you feel this was ok? My neck bleeds at your hands. Do you not see this? Do you not see what you have done to me? My neck bleeds as you retract your claws, you hold me close as you cry begging for my mercy as I bleed out. My neck bleeds and all you can do is cry and lie. My neck bleeds from your hands yet you deny it. Why do you sit here and deny what you have done? The blood stains your hands as you try mercilessly to scrub it clean. My blood is on your hands yet you still deny. My blood from my neck soaks into your skin and clothes. I will haunt you. My neck will haunt you. My blood is on your hands. Yet you still sit here strangling me. Your claws dug sharply into my skin as I pleaded for you to stop.

Done nothing. (The police)
COCSA- child on child sexual assault.

I sit here seething with rage. I feel so angry and disappointed as you continue to walk around with my blood on your hands. You walk around with your head held high. They never caught you, why didn't they catch you? Why do you walk freely while I am ignored? Warned that my justice will never come. Why am I not deserving of my justice? Just because I am COCSA? Why have the police done this? Why are they not aiding me and saving me? Why would you be allowed to walk freely and hurt others merely because you and I were children? Why do they stand here and do nothing? Why do they watch me being in pain at never getting my justice? They swore to protect and serve, yet here you are walking freely while I am told to be silent. I am told I cannot speak up. Why can't I speak up? Why won't you listen to my cries?

Not perfect. (My boyfriend)

He sat in front of me, his eyes glowed as he stared at me like I was the light of his day. His eyes crinkled as I could see the smile reach his eyes. But all I felt was sadness. I felt horrible that I would never be able to be perfect for him. I tell him and warn him that I'm not perfect. I'll never be perfect. Yet he always looks at me the same way. That love struck look. I'm not perfect yet you don't care. You don't care that I am broken. And I don't know how to feel. I apologize that I may never be able to kiss him the way he wants to be kissed. I apologize that I may never be able to cuddle him like he wants to be cuddled. I apologize that I may be slow to warm up, that it may take me months or even years before I'm able to do the things he wants. Yet he stands here by my side. That love struck look crossing his face. His eyes never held any anger towards me, his eyes never held any resentment for me not being ready. Just pity. He's the only one I would take that look from. I hate the pity others give yet this gives me comfort. It comforts me in reminding me that even with me being imperfect he still loves me. So here I stand now with you in front of me. That love struck look staring into my eyes as you worry for me day in and day out. I hate that I worry you. I want you to know I am safe. And I know you love me. Even with all my imperfections, and I love you too. I love every imperfection about you. I love your giggles, I love your reactions to me saying silly things, I love you even if you have a tough background. And you love me, even with my PTSD, even with my own trauma, even with my own childhood. You still love every imperfection. And I love every imperfection of you too.

Can't sleep. (Suicide thoughts but with boyfriend)

I'm restless as I toss and turn. All of my thoughts cross my mind as I feel my own mental health deteriorating. I feel myself losing it. I feel myself losing myself, and I hate how I know you'd have that look on your face if I did what I want. If I chose to sleep forever you'd give me that disappointed look. That sadness in your eyes I could never bear to be the reason for. Just seeing the worry cross your face as I had a seizure today, I couldn't kill myself. So I lay here restless. I want the end to come but I couldn't for you. Your eyes would hold so much sadness if I left you on this earth, even with death calling to me I couldn't leave you. So for now I shall fill your mind with my memories. I shall remind you of who I am. Not as Sleepie. Not as my alternative identities for online. But as Keith. I will tell you my stories and fill your mind with my thoughts. I shall give you physical memories to remember me by. I lie here restless wishing I could kill myself. But I can't, I haven't given you enough to keep you comforted. I haven't given you enough time to memorialize me. I don't want you to come to my funeral unknowing of who I was. I want you to remember the goods. I want you to think I was an amazing person. I want you to know who I really was deep down. I want you to love me for who I was. Not for the person I pretended I was. So here I lay restless. Wanting to die. But I don't. I couldn't for you, I couldn't end my life before you knew it all.

The way you look at me. (This is about my therapist)

After my own rape everyone stares at me like I'm a show. Something to gawk at. When I tell them that he too was a minor and my ex boyfriend they excuse him. "He must've been stressed" "oh don't think to much of it he probably didn't know you said no!". Their words swirl in my brain as I begin to wonder if maybe I am making a big deal out of nothing. I lay in my bed at night crying recalling what he's done to me, how my body now fails me. But when I tell you what he's done you didn't excuse. You told me the words I never knew could be heard. "You deserve justice" you spoke it with such confidence that it made me feel proud. Justice! What I need! But he doesn't see it that way, seeing him as the good as he tells all that he didn't mean it. He tells me while crying that he's so sorry but then turns and begins laughing about how much I cried afterwards. He tells all that I deserved it anytime they begin to accuse. Making up lies and false truths. I ran to the police just as I was told I told you all my woes and my cries. You stand by my side and help me file this report, but the police do nothing but turn a blind eye. You stand by my side and watch me cry but that look you have never changed. Your eyes were soft as you stared down at me but never in a way that saw me as lower or weak. You never looked down upon me like all before. You never changed the way you looked at me.

Your eyes. (This is about the SRO I have been trying to talk to about everything since she's trying to help me for the past week)
I hate the way everyone looks at me, I sat in your office the other day and I saw how your eyes widened. Pity and sadness filling them. As I spoke and told you how the other officers have failed me. I hated the way your eyes stared at me as I spoke. I hate it. Your eyes look me over as you take in my information and begin to find a way to solve this. You ask me for my case number and begin doing your hardest but your eyes never change. I see how your eyes are the same as all else. Your eyes hold pity. You pity me. I sit in your office and all you can show is pity. I need no pity.