A small bag was already packed under the bed. Fear struck her once again, leaving her paralyzed. It stripped her sense of being; hindering her reflexes and her desire to survive.
âI deserve this.â
âI shouldnât have said that.â
âItâs my fault.â
âMy fault.â
One day, that changed. The fear was surpassed by the will to live, the belief that she mattered, that it wasnât her fault, and she deserved better.
âCyntia, my shirt is still dirty. Did you even wash it?! Itâs always the same sh*t with you, you useless piece ofââ
This time, she expects the blow.
This time, she dodges.
This time, she runs.
Runs away straight to her sisterâs place, a safe haven.
She doesnât hesitate as she walks into the police department.
She doesnât look back this time.
đ A Question for You
What does courage look like to you? Have you ever witnessed someoneâs âthis timeâ momentâwhen they finally chose themselves?