Just once more ( #wattys2016 )
- Reads 572
- Votes 34
- Parts 17
Ongoing44m
Last published Wed, Oct 12, 2016
Look girls, cry baby came to visit us."
I stood there wanting to leave and walk away, I turned and was about to walk to the door--
"Where you think your going huh cry baby? Oh no you can stay here with us you: you clearly need some advise. So let's give you some." She turned to the others and giggled, and turned back to me; all walked up to me circling around me, I tried to run but I ran into one of the girls. She pushed me back laughing.
"Where you think your going cry baby."they all laugh. Pushing me back and forth in their circle. Then let me fall to the ground. They start stripping me down to skin, videotaping ripping my clothing.
"The whole school is going to see this you whore. Why did you try flirting with us. You wanted us to strip you." All laugh in their evil tones. They start pulling my hair dragging me. Yelling at me to stand up pulling my hair.
Holding my hair in full force, taking me to the stall throwing me in and leaving the bathroom laughing and locking the door.
Sliding down the stall door crying, asking why to myself. Why am I being treated this way. Why me? What did I do. I cried thinking. I'm tired it's been this way for 3 years, it's time to end it all: I got up from siting down walking over the the window, lifting up a piece of peeling paint where I keep my blade.
I grabbed my sweet friend, saying hello to it once again, it's only been a few hours seen last seeing you...
Contains child abuse, grief, ones struggle of a mental illness--reader warning advised ;
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This is for all of you who feel like the world hates you. Who takes a blade to their skin. Who looks them self in the mirror and criticizes themselves. Who is hurt on the outside. Who is broken on the inside. Who feel the need to stay strong and cry by themselves in the dark emptiness. Who feel like they have no one when they are surrounded by millions. Who are hit. Who are tortured. Who are hurt. Who weep. Who need a hug from someone once in a while to unload the hurt. The pain they carry within them coiled in the disaster and wretched awakening of their tears is more than we can measure. No one but them knows the feeling and the burden they carry. I hope you read this, and feel like this has helped you. Even if one in a million love you, sometimes that one persons love can cover the other nine thousand nine hundred and ninety nine people's hate. Just know that there are people who will love you. Who will hug you. Who will let you cry on their white shirt and ruin it with your mascara or stain it with your tears. ➖➖➖➖➖➖ Gwen Holland has lead the life of abuse. Of depression. Of hurt. Bearing with her the wight of the sky. Bruises lining her stomach. Broken bones every month. Bags under her eyes from lost sleep. Patches of blue and black bruises laced like silk on her body. She has kept it all a secret with full sleeve shirts, jeans and tights. But all this is at stake when her heart finds the person to whom she can fully unload her burden on. Who can help her. But to Gwen, Allen Walker is the last person who would even understand. ➖➖➖➖➖➖ *DISCLAIMER* This story contains graphic violence, self harm and suicidal chapters. There are detailed abuse and lines that may seem inappropriate to some people. So if you feel discomfort then feel free to read something else. ➖➖➖➖➖➖
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