Him. It started with that word, hasn't it? It started out of context at that point. My mom beat me because I was a him instead of a her, reminding her of my dead father. I was assaulted at school by hims but nobody would believe me because I'm a him myself. But then I met him...Jeff the killer.
• disclaimer •
I am a girl who is writing this. I decided to write a story not only of my interest involving Jeff the killer but to speak up about male abuse. Just because someone is a boy doesn't mean they can't get raped, assaulted, or beaten. Please, I speak up against ALL rape and hopefully you do too.
• trigger warning •
Don't read if you are offended or will hurt yourself others by death, suicide, eating disorders, rape, abuse, assault, murder, or any other forms of triggering. Stay safe and remember that you all have person rooting for you. One of those people is me, I love you and stay strong.
"You're different from what I expected," she said softly.
"How so?" he asked, glancing at her.
"I don't know," she replied, searching for the right words. "You just... have this way of making people feel like they matter. Even here, in this... nightmare."
He was quiet for a moment before responding. "You matter, Y/n. Don't forget that."
OR
Y/n wakes up in the deadly Squid Game, surrounded by strangers and fighting to survive. What she doesn't know is that the mysterious Frontman is watching her every move through the cameras- and she's caught his attention.