"If you tell someone" echoed disconcertingly in my stray, excruciating mind. I'm not an object, although you treat me with entirely no disrespect. I am no game that you can come back and forth too when you're bored, when you're getting zero love and affection or when you are having those sleepless nights. Begging every last moment, second to go back when I was not owned by you. Please. Let me go.
You have already hurt me enough. My enflamed body can not take anymore, also the body that is used by you without zero consent and the body that is blossoming our son. I'm not sure when nor how to tell you, let me go home with my family that's waiting for me. Can you not hear my screaming voice aching in pain, my clogged air ways can not take one more breathe of angry and hurt or have you gotten used to that sound.
YOU ARE READING
𝑀𝑦 𝑃𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑙
Short Story"If you tell someone" The fear of guilt, neglect, abuse and pain. A young women fighting for her life and her blossoming baby boy. TW is advised ⚠️
