i woke up to the smell of cheap liquor as he laid atop me.
i stayed still,
the fear creaping up my
e
n
i
p
s
"who the fuck keeps texting you?"
he must've gotten pissed drunk again.
snuck into my room again.
at that,
my phone vibrated clenched in his soiled hands.
the
metal rings he wore
glimmering
with the sunlight peaking through the closed blinds.
those blinds were always closed.
he'd feared that once i opened them,
someone would see.
someone would see
and
i'd leave.
so the blinds stayed
closed"you've been cheating again, haven't you?"
he asked before gripping my hair when i didn't answer.
the gaze turned into haze,
i felt the will to care, slipping.
what use is feeling if i'm half dead?
YOU ARE READING
touched ✓
Short Storystory #2 in the 'for the flawed' series. tw | abuse every night you held me. making me feel disgusting, because you were the s e c o n d to touch me. © 2014 flawed- (lowercase intended for stylistic purposes.) [Jan 16, 2015:: #2 in short story.]