Daughter of falcon. (Sam Wilson x child! Reader)

Not anymore

Bliss POV

I look out the window to see a bunch of scattered skyscrapers.
I'm in a regular boring wheelchair with a hospital gown on with a big sweater and a blanket draped over my legs as well as white socks.
I just look out the window not even caring about the view.
I feel dirty.
I can still feel them on me.
Touching me. I hate this.
Why couldn't he just pull the trigger.
Everyone would be happy and my suffer would have been over.
But no. I am now stuck with the feeling of those men.
22 in total. That is the only thing I can think of. 22 men have ruined me.
I don't want to be here anymore.
I want to go.
Go to my ancestors but I can't.
I just can't.
I feel the single hot tear run down my face.
I blink my eyes and look down at my small hands.
Can't anything go the way I hope. No fear. No pain. Nothing.
Nothing but joy and happiness.
I want to be able to walk, to run.
I want to go outside and not be given anymore looks of pity.
The feeling burns.
I feel like if I move I will die.
I let go and cry.
Oh God it feels good to cry.
To sob.
I shows a sign of weakness but I don't care.
I don't care. Not anymore. I'm weak.
I couldn't fight back. I couldn't even stand.
It's all my fault.
Everything flashed in my eyes.
I'm the reason for my pain.
I was never good enough.
I will never be good enough.

I hear the door creak open but I don't bother to look.
I just want to sit here until I can't hold on anymore.
Until I let go.
I felt soft yet hard finger slowly touch my shoulder.
"Bl-bliss."
I heard someone say just above a whisper.
I look up to see brown eyes exactly like mine.
I look at Sam and take in his face.
He looks terrible.
His eyes are bloodshot and there are dried and fresh tears on his face.
My face stays emotion less and I just look back down.
I can feel the stitches on my face.
The multiple scars that lay there.
The most noticeable one is the one that goes through my eye brow that ends right in the middle of my temple.
It's not a good sight.
I can tell.
I feel all the bruises. All the scars.
I feel my chair being spun around to look directly at the face that looks just like mine.
Well, minus the scars and bruises.
I let out a loud sob that I don't know I was holding in.
Sam quickly pulls me into his stomach and I wrap my small arms around his torso.
I clutch onto his shirt afraid I would be taken from him.
From my only family. No. Not again. Please not again.
I can't take it anymore.