Confused love (Freshman year)

Confused love (Freshman year)

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Jul 17, 2017
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Fiction
Romance
I aint no scary bitch. Let alone a bitch to that matter. I am a Queen. I'm black and I'm human I don't like to be treated less than a human. See the world showed me to never trust a NIGGA. I was raised by black parents. Telling me what I shouldn't and should do. But let me explain how I got picked right up by the best people only because of my personality.
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Trust is a luxury I can no longer afford. After being cast aside like a broken toy by the very people who were supposed to protect me, I learned that betrayal carries a specific, agonizing sting. It's one thing to be deceived by a stranger, but it's another entirely when the knife is twisted by your own blood. My parents didn't just turn away; they chose my ex's calculated lies over my jagged truth, leaving me with nothing but my own grit and the cold realization that I was truly alone. To survive, I had to die-at least, the version of me they knew had to. I shed my old skin, burying the girl who sought approval, and dawned a new persona built of iron and silence. I moved through the world like a ghost, rebuilding my life brick by brick in a city that didn't know my name. I thought isolation was my armor. I thought that if I never let anyone in, I could never be hurt again. But as I carved out my new existence, I discovered I wasn't the only one moving through the shadows. In the midst of my reinvention, I crossed paths with someone who mirrored my own haunted depths. Falling in love was never part of the plan; it was a complication I didn't want and a vulnerability I feared. Yet, as we navigated the wreckage of our pasts, I realized we were both being hunted by the same ghosts. In the quiet spaces between our shared betrayals, a different kind of deal emerged-one not made of money or spite, but of survival and soul. We found that while the world is full of people ready to break you, there is something worth fighting for in the wreckage. Together, we aren't just survivors; we are a storm.

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