I sat cross legged in the flooded grass. I didn’t care that my clothes were soaked through – that my shirt was sticking to my skin or that the blue dye from my jeans was bleeding through to my legs. I just sat there waiting, he had said that he would come and I trusted him.
I could feel my mother’s eyes boring into my back from the front window. She was worried. I had been sitting out here for two hours and my mom had seen him hurt me over and over again; she thought he wouldn’t come. But I knew he would, he had promised.
I couldn’t tell if my mascara was running from the rain or my tears, maybe it was both. I didn’t care. Nothing mattered anymore, he had said that he would come, he had promised. I tried to fight back the feeling of surrender but it was hard. Right now all I wanted to do was march inside, take a hot shower, and curl up with a huge quilt.
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