YOU ASK ME WHAT I'M THINKING ABOUT
She cried when he met her in the park that night.
She often did so.
He met her with a hug, pet her head and told her that everything will be okay eventually, even though he knew it was a clear lie. Things don't just turn out okay. You don't just wake up a morning to realise that the world suddenly don't hate you anymore.
Such things just happend in stories, reality was way different than that.
And even though he had all those things on his mind, he kept telling her that she was okay, that them both was okay, that everything was okay.
Even though things really wasn't okay. He -her father- had hit her, again. He didn't tell the older boy, but he already knew, he could tell from the way she hided her face in his sweather.
She always refused to show him her wounds, she thought that they were a proof for how weak she was, even though he didn't think so. Not at all. If anything, he saw it as the opposite.
They stood so in almost twenty minutes straight before she pulled away and looked at him. He could see that her cheeks were still stained of tears even though it was getting dark outside.
"Do you think I'm weak?" She asked, her voice were barely more than a whisper.
He just shook his head slowly, completely honest. He almost toldher that she was the strongest person he knew- but ended up just looking at the ground instead.
"What are you thinking about?" She said.
He gave the girl a small smile, not more than a tiny movement of his lips. "Whatever you're thinking about"
YOU ARE READING
daddy issues
Nouvelles"drugs comes with side effects" He was strong on the outside. But weak inside. She was weak at the outside. But strong inside. Based on the song 'daddy issues' by 'the neighburhood' Not finished. Words count:
