The grass tickled at my arms as the icy wind made the green blades swish back and forth. My tears poured down my cheeks, making my right cheek sting even more--like salt in the wound.
My phone pinged in my pocket. Desperate for a distraction from everything, I yanked it out of my back pocket and unlocked it.
"Your father shouldn't have done that to you."
Quickly, another message was sent.
"I'm sorry Amira."
I don't want this creeper's pity. And how does he even know about my dad?
I typed a reply, thanking autocorrect as my numb fingers could hardly hit the right letters on the tiny phone keyboard.
"That's none of your fucking business. I don't want your pity."
"I don't pity you."
I didn't reply. I only stared numbly at my phone screen, letting my hand fall back onto the grass as I looked at it on my side.
Another message sent.
"But I hope you know that you aren't alone."
"It might not mean much, but I've been where you are right now. It could get better, if only you'd let someone in."
And risk getting hurt more? Hell no, creeper. I turned off my phone, not bothering to reply to the creepy fuck who wouldn't leave me alone.
But the message rung through my head over and over, like a broken record.
"You aren't alone."
YOU ARE READING
Sincerely, Anonymous
RomanceAmira Summers gets a text from an unknown number who seems to have a goal to make her happy with herself. That, and some other motive.. Short story. DISCLAIMER: Contains self-harm, suggestions to suicide, and profanity. Read at your own discretion.
