But I can't go anywhere in this small, god-forsaken town without seeing you and having a panic attack. Do you realize this at all?
Sometimes I can't even leave the house because you made sure everyone knew of the lies you've spread. I've screamed no until my throat went raw, but you told them that I spread my legs.
You fucked me up. You still fuck me up. And you will never be punished.
That in itself is fucked up.
YOU ARE READING
Letter To My Past Self
Non-FictionThese are several short stories about my life. There are several triggers such as rape and PTSD.
