𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓 ⁿᵒᵗᵗⁱ ᵒˢᵃᵐᵃ|DISCONTINUED

𝟐𝟎𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘𝟓

𝐍𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐘𝐍𝐄 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒
𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄| 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋, 𝐍𝐘
*not edited*

Nadia sat in her bedroom with her chin in the palm of her hands. Her eyes were glued to the TV that was playing the amazing world of gumball, but she wasn't even watching it. Her mind and heart was somewhere else.

It was 2:45 a.m., and she couldn't sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, it's like she got a flashback of everything bad that happened in her life. She got flashbacks of the first time her mother had completely lost it on her. Flashbacks of the first time Notti broke her heart. Flashbacks of her younger, 9-year-old self with a thin coat and shoes that barely fit during the wintertime.

All the struggles she'd been through consumed her mind. She wanted to heal from it and move on with life, but healing meant forgiving. And that was a big step for her. Nadia was really good at holding grudges. She remembers every little petty argument and everything everyone does to her. That's a trait she wished she didn't have. She had a tendency of remembering and holding onto all the bad and completely forgetting the good.

Healing meant talking through all the deep-rooted pain and coming to level ground. It meant sitting across from her mother and actually talking to her.

All of it was nerve-wracking. She didn't know how she react to even seeing her mother in front of her. She was scared that when she finally got the chance to express how she felt, she'd blow it by letting her emotions get in the way. Apart from the looks, the main thing Nadia got from her mother was her snappiness and bad attitude.

She was working on it, but there were moments when she felt like a reflection of her mom and she hated it. But, the only way to get over it was to heal from it. Once again, healing comes from proper communication.

She heard the front door be unlocked and opened, and her breath got caught in her throat. She let out a short series of coughs before taking deep breaths. "You got this. You don't even have to do it today" she spoke to herself as she patted around for her phone.

Finding it, she snatched it from under the covers and quickly opened it. She wasted no time going to her messages and hitting a specific thread.

The devil wears Amiri (and hit the gallery)

Help....
What do I say?
Sent 2:56 am

Now really isn't the time to sleep, Ethan.
Help me!!!
Sent 2:56 am

Ethan pleeaaaaseeeee!!
She's home and I got like
t- 10 seconds before she
walk up in here
Sent 2:57 am

This ain gangsta shi in my
text message, this a sad
song😫😫😫😫
Sent 2:57 am

Ethan.....
Sent 2:58

Damn niggas can't take a
shower?????

Nigga please. You don't take those,
what was you really doing?

Bitch...

Okay frfr tho
My mama here what do I do

Speak from the heart🤷🏽‍♂️
Peace and love my traumatized brudda
I gtg!!! 🇯🇲☮️✌🏾