Roots
- Reads 25
- Votes 1
- Parts 5
Ongoing8m
Last published Thu, May 9, 2024
Chloe is a 24 year old woman who's just moved into London, she lives in a small apartment with moss and soot on the walls that smells damp, recently much more police and firemen have been seen..strange
[TW: THIS WILL CONTAINE THE FOLLOWING:GORE,DISTRIBUTING SCENES,SEXUAL HARASSMENT AND THINGS PEOPLE MIGHT NOT BE COMFORTABLE WITH!]
[this is inspired from the show 'the last of us']
enjoy!♡
All Rights Reserved
#680
1stbook
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The Text
"You are a worthless piece of trash! We should've gotten rid of you when we had the chance!" My abusive dad shouted, slapping me with all of his might. My name is Chloe Adams. Both of my parents have abused me my entire life. I'm covered in bruises, cuts, and burns from head to toe, but I've learned how to cover them up. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever escape this hell hole. "Yeah you should've." I agreed, whispering under my breath. "What was that!?" He yelled even louder than before. "N-Nothing." I stuttered, afraid of his reaction. I don't want to be pushed down the stairs again. The last time that happened, I broke my wrist. They didn't even take me to the hospital. I had to bandage it myself. "That's what I thought! Go fetch me a beer!" He ordered. There comes a moment when you don't want to stop. When you don't want to get better. You just don't care anymore. Read to find out how one small yet huge text can change Chloe's outlook on this magical journey we call life.Complete
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"You are a worthless piece of trash! We should've gotten rid of you when we had the chance!" My abusive dad shouted, slapping me with all of his might. My name is Chloe Adams. Both of my parents have abused me my entire life. I'm covered in bruises, cuts, and burns from head to toe, but I've learned how to cover them up. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever escape this hell hole. "Yeah you should've." I agreed, whispering under my breath. "What was that!?" He yelled even louder than before. "N-Nothing." I stuttered, afraid of his reaction. I don't want to be pushed down the stairs again. The last time that happened, I broke my wrist. They didn't even take me to the hospital. I had to bandage it myself. "That's what I thought! Go fetch me a beer!" He ordered. There comes a moment when you don't want to stop. When you don't want to get better. You just don't care anymore. Read to find out how one small yet huge text can change Chloe's outlook on this magical journey we call life.
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