"In order to escape accountability for his crimes, the perpetrator does everything in his power to promote forgetting. If secrecy fails, the perpetrator attacks the credibility of his victim. If he cannot silence her absolutely, he tries to make sure no one listens." - Judith Lewis Herman
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No one knew my name last year. I wandered the world ambiguously, always searching for an answer, and as the smell of wet soil pierces my nose, the answer is still yet to be found. I walk in a dead town full of cold hearted people who blame me for their mistakes. His name was Jax and he had my cold heart, or at least he used to. The meadow field next to the ice cream parlor was our favorite place to go, I remember the brittle grass, as the texture brushed against my hands, as his lips brushed against mine. He made my body numb and my heart warm, but he also made my mind ring. Vanilla bean, that was his favorite, he wouldn't settle for regular old vanilla ice cream. Maybe that's what interested me about him, he would never settle for less, but I was selfless and maybe that's why he used me. Love was a curse, everyone fell for that careless spell, except for me. Love was a disease, and the only one who wasn't vaccinated was me.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
mini skirt
Romancewhen I was at my worst, he used my fragile skin to write all of his mistakes on. he knew how to manipulate time and his body heat warmed my cold hands. but I was blinded by his love, and maybe that's why he used me. when I gave him the red light, he...
