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warnings 01 : strong language 02 : abuse 03 : little misogyny 04 : TENSIONNNNNN
(ᗒᗣᗕ)
SLAP!
A stinging pain was left on the side of my face. My top teeth dug into my bottom lip, beads of tears threatening to escape the lids of my widened, red-tinted eyes. If things were to go out of place in a perfect woman, such as unnecessary crying, I would be punished even more. So I close my eyes to try to prevent that predicament from happening.
However, they didn't like that.
Another stinging pain hit me like a truck. The damage was inflicted on the other side of my cheek this time. I choked back a cry, head snapping to the side as my eyes opened once again. My breath was heaving, my gaze switching from every object to space to object I could lay my eyes in the house, as long as I avoided their gaze.
"You bitch—look at me when I'm talking to you!" The horrifying voice of the woman I hated the most screamed into my ear. Did I even hate her, or did I hate the guilt I had for being a disappointment? I know they're bad people, but deep down in my big, emotional heart, there were emotions I didn't have the right to feel.
I felt disappointed for myself and guilty for them, that they had such a daughter who gave them nothing. They tried to make it so that I believed it was a good thing that someone slapped me for bringing nothing to my future. It was working, and maybe they were right.
I should've been more like my brother, successful and with an unbreakable personality. Someone who didn't cry when the person they tried to get validation from hit them. Someone who had such a cold heart that they simply watched as another bullied their sister multiple times a day. Someone who was the perfect role model my parents thought he was, but in my eyes, he was far different from that.
I know they're all wrong and that they should rot and burn in hell, but over the years, I have had thoughts they wanted me to have and which I shouldn't have because I know it wasn't true. I know I don't deserve this, I know I shouldn't experience this trauma. But deep down, I feel I should. I feel I do deserve this. I feel I should experience this trauma.
I held back a wince from the harsh abuse on my face and on my mental state. I didn't want to obey her—or any of them, but I had no choice. I slowly sunk my stare into her, keeping the emotions bottled up inside me instead of projecting them with a simple gaze that could ruin more of my body than it already was.
