I sat on that side of the gutter for hours wallowing in my own disgrace. My arm bled out and the bone emerged from my skin. I couldn't move I was still hurt, my head was pounding and my clothes were still dirty.
I had to use the bathroom but I couldn't move so like the filth I was I peed on myself. My clothes were wet with urine.
I still didn't move, but again I was hungry but there was no where I could go where I coul- I cut myself off short because I remembered that tonight Alaan and I would go out to dinner but what would I wear? I didn't have a car my hair needed to be done and I smelled like urine I looked a mess.
I took some part of my damp soiled clothes and ripped it with all my might. I ripped pieces of my pants and put them on my arm to hide the wound.
I took some effort to get up but I did it. I had to lean on the wall to help the rest of my body up, I started to walk down the street and I just walked and walked I didn't know where I was going but I just kept walking.
I passed by many boutiques and stores that I would use to buy things from but even the fact of me even looking in the window would get glances from snotty rich people.
I didn't know where to go, the only place I could go was to the boutique but that place had a lot of memories of Tyler but I went anyways where else could I go?
When I got there I slipped through
The police tape and again walked around. This time, nobody was here I was all by myself I went in Tyler's office and never came out again, I knew I was going to stay here as long as I needed to and as the days grew I had to go out a beg for money, that was the worse thing I've ever ever had to do bedsides having kids with Tyler.
Everyday I would make about 3-5 dollars in change and save it to buy food for me & the kids growing inside of me. My life was pretty simple now, go to the streets get some money and save it. I didn't have a life where I was on top of everything I did.
When I returned to the boutique that night and slouched down on the floor where I slept and started to rub my stomach life for me was okay and it would be for the past few months as long as I kept my mouth shut and thanked god for everything blessing he gives me throughout life until my kids are born.
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A Living Fancy
AksiMany stories matter. Stories have been used to dispossess and to malign. But stories can also be used to empower, and to humanize. Stories can break the dignity of humanity. But stories can also repair that broken dignity of being A Living Fancy.