They never talk about how much you wish you had died after you survived the ordeal.
They don't, and even if it had been whispered about behind closed doors, she wishes this part had been.
She's survived, but she wishes she hadn't, and she knows this is probably a selfish thought, because people who are dying wished they weren't, and she's a healthy person.
She's healthy physically, but something emotionally, mentally, and spiritually within has been fractured.
Something inside herself is broken.
Torn, shredded, slashed, ripped into tiny rice-like pieces that easily get blown into the wind and lost.
She wants to claw away her skin from bone, and even then she still knows she'll feel disgusted.
Always on the verge of puking her whole stomach out.
She survived being raped.
And she wishes she hadn't.
YOU ARE READING
When Tomorrow Comes: Am I an Adult Yet? (Anthology)
Non-Fiction"And I asked myself, when does this burning pain end?"
