I couldn't even get out of bed for days afterwards. The memories, the flashbacks of the event - they haunted my dreams and wouldn't go away.
I couldn't tell anyone. No, I can't.
Not my friends. Not my parents. Nobody would believe me, anyway. They wouldn't care. Nobody.
I haven't eaten in about two days. Of course I drank alot of water. But I have no appetite. I have nothing.
I thought of him every day. I think about him every day. But he can't be thinking about me. I mean, he doesn't even know my name.
YOU ARE READING
Stolen Pieces (Graphic Short Story)
Historia Cortanobody will believe you if you tell them you've been raped by the most loved guy in school.
