Late night thoughts

Excerpt from a book I will never write #001

If I could get a dollar for every time he was terrorizing my mind, I would be rich. Like literally, every night I think of how it ended, how awful it was. But not only at night, I got that feeling when I was bored, the feeling, it was like I had to puke. Thinking of him made me puke. He was making me sick, not only was it something that I felt in my body, he was making me sick mentally. His words kept repeating itself, over and over. At night I cried as soft as possible, and when I woke up in tears I tried to cover my under eye circles with makeup, it became a routine. I tried not to show anyone how I was feeling... The only thing that I could do was living with my fear. And believe me, living in fear is the worst. Almost nothing could make me feel less scared, almost nothing.