3/5- Paid & Laid ✔

𝗛𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗼, 𝗜'𝗺 𝗥𝘆𝘂𝗷𝗶𝗻...

⚠️Warning: Mentions Of Abuse & Acts Of Sexual Assault⚠️

Hello, I'm Ryujin...

If you could read my mind, you'd be in tears.

I stay neutral and say I'm fine, when really I haven't been okay for a very long time.

And most of the time I just want a day, minute, or even a second where it feels like I'm not falling apart.

Pain changes people.

But sadly, I don't think I've ever had to changed.

I've just always been this way.

I was abused by my parents at a young age.

I think maybe 6 or 7, maybe younger.

I didn't understand why they were hitting me whenever they felt like it, and almost started to believe it was normal.

I guess school was the only thing that kept me sane, my grandmother offered to drop me off and pick me up from school every week for a long time, she was convinced my parents worked a lot and were struggling because we were evicted and then living in a trailer park.

Again since my grandmother thought they were trying, she offered to take care of all the things I needed for school, however I thought she was just doing this for her pride of calling herself a good grandmother because she was the dumbest person I'd ever met and yet I lived with two addicts that are somehow classified as 'parents'

My grandmother would see the bruises and cuts, but always thought I was clumsy since the trailer park wasn't the safest place to live in.

When my grandmother mentioned that I should be more careful to my parents, they started avoiding my face. I always thought that they'd be too high or drunk to comprehend they were even hitting me, so I thought of it like 'wow, what a good strategy.'

When I turned 12, I came home from school on my birthday, my grandmother had bought me a cake and wanted to celebrate with my parents, she still didn't know that they were practically melted to the couch as all they did was stare at me and maybe if I was lucky; yelled at me.

They stopped hitting me when I turned 9, not because they thought it was wrong, but because they simply couldn't anymore, they didn't care at all, drugs and alcohol had consumed them.

And for some reason, it hurt more than when they were hitting me.

Anyway, me and my grandmother, both witnessed the dead bodies of my parents laid on the floor as they had suffered an overdose, right then and there my grandmother called the police and wondered what was even going on. She wondered why there was no food in the fridge, why the floor was infested with all kinds of shit that stray dogs and cats would bring in, why there were illegal drugs and more endless bottles of cheep beer hanging around the couch and on the floor;I told her everything.

I didn't cry.

Nor was I angry.

Or scared.

I just stared at their dead bodies with a blank face.

And...

Smiled.

It was the first time I had ever smiled.