Morning memories

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A/N sorry for the late update my wifi was out last night. also in this chapter, there is self-loathing and mentions of abuse, as well as descriptions of blood. 

I wanna say that no matter what you look like you're beautiful. If you want to change something about yourself go ahead. But if doing that makes you uncomfortable don't. You don't need to change for anyone else. If you wanna change do it for you in a way that's safe and comfortable. Don't think that you need to change to be good enough. Because anyone who isn't happy with you for who you are right now isn't worth the time or energy. 

Because your beautiful just the way you are and you don't have to change to fit society standards. 

Unless you're a bully. Bullies need to change. But those are character traits.

Anyway enough with my rant. I hope y'all are having a wonderful day/evening/night and I'll see you next Tuesday.

~Kigha

"Will you need any extra blankets tonight?" he asked.

"N-no thank you," you whispered.

There was an awkward silence for a moment.

"Why are you letting me stay?" you asked, your voice quiet filled with fear but covered with a curious tone.

He opened his mouth to speak, but he gave no response. You curled inward, your fear spiking in the silence of the unknown territory.

"I don't know actually," he said as he closed up the boxes and put them away.

~Next day~

Sun glared through your eyelids as you lay curled up by the door. You rubbed your eyes and yawned. You stood up and opened the door, listening for any signs that Lucifer was awake. 'Still asleep' You walked over to the window and admired the view. From here you could see the city's tall office buildings and small shops, people just beginning to stir awake. And The sky. Oh, it was so pretty. A brilliant, vibrant blue slightly covered by ever-moving tufts of white. You couldn't see outside from the basement. Most of the time it was hot and dark or freezing from winter weather.

~memory~

You sat in the corner of the cold cement room huddled as close to yourself and the walls as you could. You had run out of tears seemingly hours ago. Blood ran down your back as you shook. Your scars had reopened and your mother didn't want you to bleed on the carpet. So she threw you into your room (A.K.A. the basement) and told you to stay away from the bed. Your shirt was soaked in blood and you didn't want to disobey your mother out of fear of another beating. Not that you would dare move right now. Any movement would expose the rest of you to the frigid air. You didn't even bother to get the one blanket you had. It was washed once a month and you still had half a month to go. So you just sat there and shivered as the cold air froze your blood. But you were glad that the snow couldn't make it inside. ~over~

You shook off the memory and let your mind wander as you admired the city. You wondered how today was going to go. Perhaps Lucifer would be tired of you by now and send you away somewhere. Or perhaps he would send you back to your mother. She wouldn't take you back if he did. She has probably burned all evidence that you existed already.

Maybe he would keep you?

Let you sit in the warmth of the summer sun.

Or poke at the snow on the streets.

Maybe he would take you to the park.

Green grass, wind in the trees-

NO!!

You couldn't let yourself think like that. You couldn't get your hopes up. Lucifer was just another man like the men your mother brought home. It may take a day, or a week, or a month, but he would get tired of you eventually. You would do something to piss him off and he'd beat you then chuck you out onto the streets. Or maybe he'd give you to someone who wanted other things from you. They'd have to be pretty desperate to take you though. You were ugly and fat. And you spoke too much. No one would want you. Not in a million years would anyone want something like you.

But those were thoughts for another time. You wouldn't grieve over things you can not change.

Instead, you grabbed your book and sat at the wall adjacent to the door, directly facing the window.

You began from where you had left off yesterday. Almost mid-book. You fidgeted as you read. Normally the second you got up you would spend the next 5 or 6 hours cleaning. Albeit you usually stayed up all night cleaning too. You would come home from school and vacuum and wash the dishes. Then you'd get a list of any and all other chores for the day and do those. By the time you were done, it was usually 11 pm. Then you'd do your homework and the rest of our classwork. By 2 am you'd be asleep. Then wake up at 6 to make your mom breakfast before walking to school. Just to store all of the work and packets in your bag (unless they had to be turned in immediately) and draw or read during most -if not all- of your classes.

Weekends were the same. You just got more sleep and no school.

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