TW!!!!!!!!! suicide, death, blood, mild blood. And heartbreak *sobs*
Holding your hand always was comforting
But why now, why does my dead and frail hand feel so weird in your bloody fingers?
Why does now, the thought of us together makes me wonder if i ever deserved this ending. If i ever deserved this beginning of this story.
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All day I was anxious and nervous if Donnie was behind me, watching me, waiting to attack. I'd held Antonia's hand like it was an angle rescuing me. But i felt as if i wanted Donnie to come and get me, not giving me a choice to run. A part of me - a sick part - wanting to be captured again, to go through something traumatic all over again, so that i could have a do over with Donnie.
I pace back and forth, nipping at my nails, scratching the back of my neck. Antonia hasn't got any notes yet, maybe I'm overthinking this, he won't hurt me till the point of death- I know that's for sure. But yet, i don't want to be hurt. Ugh, i plop myself down on a bench, grumbling as i rub my forehead. I'm just so tired of all this shit all the damn time, when will i ever get a damn break?
I suddenly feel Antonia's warm hand rub my back, her thumbs running in a circle slowly as she sighs, puffing out smoke from her cigarette.
"he won't hurt you," Her country accent blends through her words, "i'll make sure of that babe, your too sweet and lovin' for a sweet gal like you, ain't no way he should be disrespecting you"
I lean my head on her shoulder, tears beginning to form in my eyes. Its been so long since i've cried, been so long since I've been so scared and terrified. I hear Antonia hum, before she embraces me into a tight hug. And thats when it hit. Tears streamed from my eyes, my body beginning to shake as i hold on tightly to Antonia's arms, grasping as i try to breath but only coming in short and raspy breathes.
"aw babe- Don't you cry your pretty lil' heart out" She sooths me, like a mother would. A mom. Immediately my thoughts go to Big Mama, how she was the closest thing i ever got to a mother before she got pissed when i got too comfortable. But then, i think of my actual mom, the one i could never fathom seeing again. How i remember her harsh words as she would hit me across my face in anger before sipping her wine again
"How many times do i have to tell you? If you ever want a husband, you can't eat that much like a Glutton" She would scold me after having Ice cream for dessert
"How many times do i have to tell you? Pretty girls don't dress like a slut, cover up whore" She would say after i tried wearing shorts to the beach
"You'll never be loved if you keep acting like this" She would laugh at me after i played in the mud when i was 6
"I wish i never gave birth to you, me and your father were much better off without you" She would stare me dead in the eyes as she would burn me with my father's cigar.
It was always so weird, remembering when i saw her eyes as she stared at me through the cars window of that day. The day my family sold me off to go be some sex slave. I thought for a second, a second, that their was some regret in her eyes. But that quickly ended when she began to count the money the assholes gave them.
YOU ARE READING
This isn't love this is torture
FanfictionYandere donnie X fem depressed reader !! I suppose going on a train and meeting a random stranger isn't so bad, yeah maybe he gives you a cherry scent note with his number which then leads to a date where you end up as his prisoner- not disturbing a...
