Touch.

Touch.

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, Jun 20, 2020
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Fiction
Social Themes
I miss being alive. Every touch of something unknown...it feels like it's crawling on me,it tries to break into my body and it's going to kill me. My body feels weak. I'm afraid. I miss touching thinks like I used to. Maybe u will understand why. I hope you enjoy reading this.And please don't judge me on my English.
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The average human being spends every second of his day fighting against the force of nature to see another day. But I'm different. I'm not afraid of outside forces to take my life away - only myself. Approximately 10 years ago, something happened to me. Something really bad. But I'm not allowed to talk about it. As a way to release my frustration, I give hell to my body and everyone I come in contact with - especially my parents. No one knows about what happened except the ones who did it...and Him. But he didn't stay. Now, he's back and he's not talking either. I want to stop hurting, I need to stop. Make me stop.

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