A story about, well, you’ll see.
A story about, well, you’ll see.  thoughts stories
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justlookup
justlookup Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
Art is real. That’s why art disturbs the comfortable and comforts the disturbed.

A story about, well, you’ll see.

The lights flicker on and off. The girl closes the bathroom door behind her and turns on the shower.

The lights flicker on and off. The girl closes the bathroom door behind her and turns on the shower. She quickly takes off her clothes, careful not to look in the mirror.

The freezing water stings as she steps under the shower.

The freezing water stings as she steps under the shower. The girl quickly washes herself, her eyes tightly shut so she wouldn’t have to see her horrible, wrong body.

When she finished, she climbed out and snatched her towel.

As she was about to put on her raggedy clothes, the door opened. The girl started to shake in horror.

Her father, drunk as always, staggered in. She wanted to scream, but nothing came out.

She was trapped. Again.

There are no words to describe the torture and fear and rage and hopelessness she felt all at once.

There are no words to describe the torture and fear and rage and hopelessness she felt all at once. No words to describe the pain each time his skin brushed against hers.

When her father finally left her to her misery, she ran to her bedroom, clothes in hand.

She closed her eyes and threw a shirt over her head so she wouldn’t have to see the fresh, red finger marks across her skin.

It was all too much. Her mind was scattered, shattered in a million pieces.

Her heart broken. Her lungs gasping for air.

Her eyes began to fill with tears and it somehow felt reassuring, releasing the pain.

But if she cried, that would make her weak.

So she pulled back her tears and the secrets she holds too.

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