THE ART OF PRETENDING

"I'm okay don't worry about me it'll be fine." Are the words i always use when i'm sad. I always though my best friends loved and cared for me.

At the end they always hated me, to the point they just wanted me to disappear. They orchestrated my rape, pictured and published it on social media and turned the situation like i was consent. Like it wasn't enough, they bullied me in school.

Everyday to the point i just wanted to die. To stop feeling anything. The pain, the judgments. I tried, realy tried to die, but i guess even God don't want me.

My parents on the other hand weren't different from others. They didn't trust me. I was nothing but a failure to them.

I managed and got to college. Finally away from them. I promised myself i won't ever get back there, that i will forget all what happened and think it was just a bad dream.

But a greek god named Jeremiah with a perfect cocky smirk, a jaw line sharp as glass and a body made directly from God's hands, who came crawling directly from hell just for me.