I can't hear what the fight is about but I can tell it's bad.
Glass shatters. Probably a bowl, maybe Mom's favorite encrusted plates.
I hear the front door slam for the fifth time this month, confirming that Dad left again.
Yelling. Screaming. Shattered glasses. Slammed doors. Silence.
It's a never ending cycle.
I go to a therapist. Her name is Tamara, she's pretty and has good advice. She told me I could trust her. I took that with a grain of salt.
I tell her bits about my life, pushing to the absolute edge; right before I get to the good part. The good part being my abusive family. I guess it isn't actually good, but it's certainly what Tamara is looking for. What she suspects. What everyone I know suspects.
But whenever I lie and assure them everything is alright, they believe it because they want to. No one wants this town to be anything but boring.
Oak Bluffs, Massachusetts. A place where everyone knows everyone and their story.
Except one.
YOU ARE READING
𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬
FantasyI'm pretty sure everything about what I'm doing is illegal-but that's part of the teenage life. You break rules and live and learn. I guess in my case it's a little more than that. TW: mentions of suicide, self harm, and other topics that are not so...
