Abuse has a way of straining people's hearts. it might make one completely broken, shattered, annoyed at others, redundant in their behavior, jacked, or make one stare at flowing water, wiping leaves, watch the dirt wash off the windows from the rain, experience the fire dull to the ashes and rot the organs away.
abuse doesn't just doesn't make one flinch on the slightest movement; it makes them aware of their surroundings, painfully observant, might have their backs to the wall to be prepared for the upcoming attack, sit where they can easily escape if misery falls upon them, have their eyes gawk at everyone, and everyone's everything and anything.
abuse doesn't just make one have a habit of being tired of people; it makes things far more complicated to decide if they want constant noise to fill their head or silence to command control. it makes them remember they are to be strong to prevent anything anymore or just accept that they deserved it and anything more they might go through. it widens the alley of life and happiness and pain, hurt, and constant gnawing of worthlessness closes in on them.
abuse might just be a form of control for the abuser, a drunken episode for some, slip of mind for others, but the victim always comes out with certain headstrong conclusions- no to alcohol, or only alcohols, no to sex, or just sex as an escape, no to attachments, or just- well, no strings attached.
guilt might seep in as slowly as water into concrete pavement, but it shuts off instantly before the new episode of control drops. Things might become better, and one day, relapse isn't just anything but bloodshed on the carpet, black eye, peed pants, panic attacks, tears, and fear.
It doesn't matter how normal people might want to make a home in the victim's heart; the alley never narrows; it searches for an opportunity to broaden again and yell 'told you so'. live of the victim is never easy to be lived again, if made out alive. It's a dangerous territory to pave, if allowed, and far more painful to conquer.
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The story is not edited. If you want perfection, leave this asap. The author has no intention of editing at this moment; STEM awaits her.
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Not so Evara
General FictionEvara: a Sanskrit name which means 'Gift of God'. Kai has nothing 'evara' in her life. Kai's father isn't the raging alcoholic, but a staunch businessman. He was delighted to have Kai in his arms the moment she was born, more than his wife. With ye...
