When I was younger, I swore, once I was older, that I would stand up for those that couldn't. I would help make a difference, even if it took me fifty years to accomplish. I would not give up no matter what was thrown my way to tear me down. Yet, I could barely care for myself. Words failed me when I needed them most. The four letters would swirl in my mouth, clinging to the edge of my tongue, but they never slipped out. My voice became my enemy as soon as the abuse began because, in the long run, it didn't know what would happen once the words were carelessly thrown out into the open for others to consume.
It was why I never told my mother to stop, why I never told my father, why I would never recover. Why I would never be able to stand up for others, no matter how much my heart willed me to.
Because, while my heart was brave enough to risk exposure to the unforgiving glares of society, my mind was nowhere near close to accepting something as simple as a compliment. That was why I wouldn't be one to stand up and fight. I was the girl with a gun that had the safety latch on while everyone else had shields and tanks. I could work the gun, or I could surrender. Either way, my chances of survival were one in a billion.
A shy girl never won a battle--let alone a war--against a ruthless population that had created a faux, bitter aura that welcomed everyone who could muster up a mask to cover their true selves, molding into the people that could face the world with a smile and their bed with tears full of their never ending pain.
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Amor Rebelde
Romance*I swear it's better than it sounds.* BAD BOY She was the one nobody noticed. For seventeen years, Kayla Anderson was fine with that. But that quickly took a turn, leading her away from the normal life she knew. When lung cancer fills her father and...
