Black Bxb Oneshots

IM A SURVIVOR

Why can't you be more like your brothers and sisters

I won't raise any sissy in this house.

You aren't any brother of mine.

I wish I had aborted you when I had the chance.

You ruined this family.

Trigger Warning- mentions of abuse 🚫

At the innocent age of five, I knew I was different from other boys. While other boys engaged in athletic activity, I was somewhere playing with flowers in the yard. As I grew older, my curiosity intensified; I would stare at certain boys for seconds longer than I should have. I was never overly masculine to begin with; I didn't like labels—I was simply me.

December 22, 2008, is a night I will never forget. My small body stood in front of a mirror, and as my eyes took in my appearance, the dress I wore looked so pretty. The red lipstick placed on my lips made them pop. When the door slammed open, it was pushed with such force that it nearly flew off the hinges. As my wide eyes met those of my father, I could see his eyes red with anger, and his face twisted in utter disgust. That night, he beat me to a bloody pulp. I didn't understand at the time what I had done wrong; once he felt he had done enough, he left me there, lying in a pool of my own blood.

I guess nearly losing my life meant nothing to my family. I was a sin; I was an abomination to mankind. As the years went by, the verbal abuse I endured left me a shell of my former self. I was finally freed from the shackles of my parents when I was thrown out of a place I could never call home, with no money to my name and no clothes on my back. In desperate times, I began to sell my body; this went on for months until one particular person took an interest in me.

His name was Killa. Once you spoke that name, people would cower in fear, recognizing the dangerous man he was. His appearance was a sight to behold—his height reached an intimidating 6'7", his large body was lathered with tattoos, and his skin was as smooth as chocolate. After many sessions with him, he vowed to provide me with a better life, and like a fool, I believed him. Of course, the beginning of our relationship started off well; he showered me with love and took care of me as he promised. I thought I was in love with him and ignored the obvious signs. To tell the truth, I was grateful someone could love me for me.

Over time, he showed me that he lived up to his name; his large hands would strike me with such power, and then like a light switch, those same hands would rub against the curve of my back as he told me how sorry he was. At one point, the apologies stopped, and he showed me no mercy. After he deemed me useless, I was once again thrown out of a place I could never call home. The only good thing that came from being with him was the large amounts of money he gave me, which I never spent, so I was well off for the rest of the year.

I learned that I was pregnant with Killa's child, and my heart wept for my baby. Call me selfish, but I would never allow such a vile person into my child's life. It was hard at first dealing with the sudden pregnancy all alone, but I was a warrior, and I made it happen. I vowed I would give my child the life I never had; I vowed I would love my child as they came, no matter the flaws.

Unbeknownst to me, my family, when they came to realize their terrible mistake, would come looking for me. The man I gave my heart to would be haunted by guilt for as long as he lived. For once in my life, I'm happy. I've been through hell and back, but I'm a survivor."