Cotton Candy
Cotton Candy emotional stories
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wildanimal1165
wildanimal1165 Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   2 months ago
There is a sweet smell that fills the air before you step into the room It is a smell that takes any child back to their childhood memories of going to a fair

Cotton Candy

There is a sweet smell that fills the air before you step into the room

It is a smell that takes any child back to their childhood memories of going to a fair

The child peeks through the window, watching them whisk up the fluffy sugar

They beg their parents, just one, I'll be good, I promise

To most, it brings back pleasant memories

The first time on the Zipper

Reaching the top of the ferris wheel and swearing you could see Mt. Everest

Getting off the tilt-a-whirl, thinking you may puke

But for me, the smell is not pleasant.

When it fills every corner of the room

I can feel my legs wobble, my heart pound

My body enters fight or flight

But there is a third instinct, one we do not commonly experience

Freeze.

Every bone, every muscle, it refuses to move

To take a step

To get out.

For me, that smell means her

It means getting yelled at

It means being the one in the wrong

It means never being good enough

It means never being successful in life

It means being emotionless

It means being heartless

It means constant pain from the woman she was supposed to be, but never was

The pain fills each inch of my body in different ways

My outfit isn't good enough, who would wear that out?

My hair isn't styled right, I don't want to embarrass myself.

My stomach is too flat, too fat, too much, no one will like that.

My fingers are like my father's, they are too similar and fat.

My toes are big, I shouldn't wear sandals without painting my toenails.

The pain is familiar

The smell is intoxicating

Breaking down all the walls I built so she couldn't hurt me anymore

Choking on the words she forces down my throat

Feeling guilty for nothing.

The smell of cotton candy, it brings pain.

That's why I don't like fairs.

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