Varni

o n e

As I made my way towards the alley outside of town, I knew what was coming, and no matter how many times, I never got used to it.

As slowly as possible, I walked past the alley, only to be grabbed by two pair of arms.
"There she is, dude," one of his friends snickered as he threw me in front of bastard and his friends. I don't know their name, hence why I call the 'leader' bastard.

"Look at me you bitch." Bastard said as he grabbed my chin harshly, forcing me to look at him.

His face was covered just like the others, but one thing was for certain. He smells like shit.
"Talk to me, Yawa bitch."
Bastard changed his hold and grabbed my hair, only to push me on the ground.
I let out a grunt due to the impact.

"You won't talk? I'll make you talk soon, bitch. Guys get the camera." I heard him laugh.

I heard them all laugh.

Another punch was aimed at me, hitting its target soon after.
Each hit felt like a hammer against my stomach, as I struggled to catch my breath.
I felt tears streaming down my face as I fought to stay conscious, the pain unbearable as he continued with his friends laughing in the background, but I was too focused on the pain to hear anything, or make any sound.

After what seemed like an eternity, he stopped.

"Tell anyone about it and you're dead.

You deserve nothing but the worst. 

And it's all your and only your fault.

You're disgusting.

A murderer.

Go fucking kill yourself," he spat.

They left me alone in this alley somewhere in the middle of nowhere.
Their laughter fading into the distance, leaving me shaken and defeated.
The scars on my body would hopefully heal, but words hit deeper and linger forever.

Perhaps I deserved it?

VARNI

Arriving home, I slowly opened the door and slipped inside, careful not to make a sound. The pain I was feeling was unbearable, and all I could think about.
Letting out a wince of pain I slowly turned around, closing the door and quietly heading upstairs.
Passing my uncles room upstairs, I couldn't help but feel a wave of terror, thinking he might've heard me.

If he's in his room.

Without wasting another second of my time, I entered my room and locked the door before fetching the first aid kit from the corner of my room.
After stripping down to my underwear and tending my injuries in the bathroom- which I knew would be sore for many days- I finally finished up after two painful hours of cleaning, showering, and bandaging myself up.
The pain throughout my whole body was nearly unbearable.

Looking at the time it was past midnight.

Looking at my reflection in my mirror, I saw redness on my chin from the tight grip, the dullness in my brown eyes, my, now, black/purple bruised stomach and my black hair dripping wet.

Letting out a sigh, I turned away heading to my bed, burying myself in the sheets for comfort.
It was then that my body began to relax, only to be met with another wave of pain. Grimacing, I reached for two painkillers from my nightstand and washed them down with water, hoping for some relief.

I'm not a murderer.

———

• FuFu