~Chapter 8~

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   Rose's POV:

I sit in my room; crying loudly; not caring if daddy hears me or not. I cry, my hands folded, my head facing towards the sky. I pray. Mommy and Daddy have never really talked about God, I have never even stepped inside a church before. But I know that he's out there.... Maybe-

My thoughts get interrupted by the door slowly creaking open.
       
I lift up my head, my hands still folded. I see Daddy standing in the door way, one hand against the wall for balance.

"What...are you doing." He says with a rude-curiousness.

"P-praying, daddy..." I answer quietly, feeling my anxiety take over. My dad looks straight at me with a stone cold face.

"God is not real RoseMary." He says to me, seeming to be very confident in his words.

I only listen to him when he's sober...which he never is...but this..

"God is for lonely people who need something imaginary to distract them from reality." He says again, before looking at me and walking out tipsely. I sigh. What is he's right....what if nothing or nobody can help me through this.

I shake the thought from my mind and try to continue to pray, though my thoughts are terrorizing my mind.Some people question how a 5 year old can have such bad anxiety.... But to me it's normal. My anxiety almost calms me in a way; though it seems to rip my life apart at the same time. I wish I could find someone who understands. Someone who would want a mistake like me.

But....like all good things....maybe that person is closer than I think....

(Rewritten 💖)

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