Slowly Ending...
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- Parts 6
I woke up face down on a tile floor shivering in a layer of cold sweat, my tangled hair sticking to my face. Taking in a deep breath my eyes flew open. Why was I still here? I was being move to one of the military bases a few seconds ago. What happen? They said we would be safe. Where are they? They said they had a solution. Why’d they lie?
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rising
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Before Mike, before the love story people know now, there was me-raw, broken, and surviving. This is the truth I never thought I'd be strong enough to tell. I was 22 years old when my life shattered. I was raped in a back alley and left bleeding, alone. When I turned to the police, hoping for help, they didn't protect me-they shamed me. They called me slurs. They asked me what I'd done to deserve it. What I had worn. Whether I had "led him on." No one believed me. Nine months later, I gave birth to my son. I named him Aerion Jace Rosier-Aj. His name means strength, wisdom and power in Greek. I gave him that name because i wanted him to have everything I felt had been stolen from me. He was my light, even in the darkest time of my life. But the darkness wasn't done with me. My two older children, Samuel and Emilie, ended up with my first ex's mother, and I lost all parental rights to them. And then came the 18 months of sex trafficking. They used Aj as collateral-my baby was the only reason i obeyed. I was forced to do what they wanted, or they would have killed him. They only let me see him for one hour each day. I was deprived of food, stripped of dignity, starved down to 75 pounds. I remember the blue car Aj was in the day the police sting finally saved us. But even after we were freed, i wasn't really free. the PTSD haunted me. I avoided certain materials, certain places, even certain sounds. And every night, I heard the voices. Every relationship after that was wrong-narcissists who broke me down even further. Men who convinced me I was unworthy, unwanted. My current ex even told my son Aj that he wasn't wanted-that he was nothing. I let it happen, and the guilt kills me. I became "the girl who never cried." I thought if I never cried, maybe none of it really happened. But the truth is, it didn't. And it changed me.
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"You trust me, don't you?" he says with a smile, that smile. It had fooled everyone, even me at some point, and for the first time I want to scream with rage and shake the earth to the core. "Give me a hug," he says pulling me out of the chair that feels like a rock underneath me. I am as stiff as a board as his hands circle me, making me feel worse than dirt. His hands reach between my thighs and I want to plunge a knife deep through his chest. The only thing stopping me is, the knife is no where near. I pull back and I don't try to hide the anger in my eyes. I want him to see it. To know that I am coming for him. Rape is chanted repeatedly in my mind, reminding of the lies I just told and the false accusations I am throwing on innocent people. He's probably figured it out anyways, surely a Priest as high as he cannot be deceived. But none of that matters anymore because...... This is just the Beginning.Complete
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My hands were stretched out to him. Expressing what my voice couldn't. I needed his help - even if it's just this once - I'd hoped he helped me. But he didn't reach out to me. Instead, I watch him turn his back at me. I watch him walk away when I needed him the most. Even after all she said, there was a part of me that hoped it wasn't true. Even if he doesn't love me - I'd thought he would at the very least liked me... maybe? I thought all the things I did for him would make him see me, tolerate me or something. But no. We kept drifting further apart. And it's all my fault. I simply did too much. I trusted the wrong person. Did the craziest things for love. Forgot my self worth. All these to earn his approval, his acknowledgment - for him to see me - none of which ever happened. And now, here I am. Lying in the pool of my own blood for someone who doesn't even care for my life or death. Oh, how I wish I could turn back time! I refuse to face my family like this. This is too shameful. For I've fallen too far from the woman I was raised to be. I dare not face my mama. Now, for the first time ever, I wish not to be seen, heard or even thought of- I wish not to be saved. I wish my soul disintegrates and scatters into nothingness . I wish to be completely erased from the universe. This story isn't edited yet. I apologize for some mistakes you might see. Your comments and advices are appreciated as this is my first book so it might be quite... Thank you
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刺され、最強の魔術師として蘇る。平和を望む。力は混沌をゆく。
"You're gonna get stabbed one of these days, seriously." I used to just laugh off my friends' warnings. Blessed with a silver tongue, I'd toyed with countless women since I was a child, and my college days were spent cycling through dozens of them. I was that kind of womanizing scumbag, and I genuinely believed there was no way I'd ever get stabbed in a law-abiding country like Japan. ...That is, until the night an ex-girlfriend I'd carelessly tossed aside stabbed me in the back. As my consciousness faded, I remembered my grandmother's words, "Everything you do comes back to you," and I died regretting my own foolishness.
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Before Mike, before the love story people know now, there was me-raw, broken, and surviving. This is the truth I never thought I'd be strong enough to tell. I was 22 years old when my life shattered. I was raped in a back alley and left bleeding, alone. When I turned to the police, hoping for help, they didn't protect me-they shamed me. They called me slurs. They asked me what I'd done to deserve it. What I had worn. Whether I had "led him on." No one believed me. Nine months later, I gave birth to my son. I named him Aerion Jace Rosier-Aj. His name means strength, wisdom and power in Greek. I gave him that name because i wanted him to have everything I felt had been stolen from me. He was my light, even in the darkest time of my life. But the darkness wasn't done with me. My two older children, Samuel and Emilie, ended up with my first ex's mother, and I lost all parental rights to them. And then came the 18 months of sex trafficking. They used Aj as collateral-my baby was the only reason i obeyed. I was forced to do what they wanted, or they would have killed him. They only let me see him for one hour each day. I was deprived of food, stripped of dignity, starved down to 75 pounds. I remember the blue car Aj was in the day the police sting finally saved us. But even after we were freed, i wasn't really free. the PTSD haunted me. I avoided certain materials, certain places, even certain sounds. And every night, I heard the voices. Every relationship after that was wrong-narcissists who broke me down even further. Men who convinced me I was unworthy, unwanted. My current ex even told my son Aj that he wasn't wanted-that he was nothing. I let it happen, and the guilt kills me. I became "the girl who never cried." I thought if I never cried, maybe none of it really happened. But the truth is, it didn't. And it changed me.
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