But then you started becoming mean again. Not mean in a very direct, bullying kind of a way, but a more subtle way that I could only feel. They were just jokes, you said. They were harmless, you said. And yet they never stopped coming. They needlessly broke me down bit by bit. And no one saw the wrong in it.
YOU ARE READING
Toxic
Short Storyshe was flowers and sweet gin, and he was the poison that destroyed them highest ranking: #561 in Short Story current ranking: #561 in Short Story
