Cross My Heart
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Cross My Heart

This story contains themes of: child abuse, depression, eating disorders, self-harm

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Summary

But just as i'm about to go back in the car, i notice something. Or rather someone. A girl, cleaning the old church stairs slowly, like it was punishment rather than routine. And if an actual church being just across the street from the little corner shop, where all the junkies would get high and then write some stupid messages to the walls, while trying not to piss themselves isn't a acknowledgment that our town is weird as fuck, then i don't know what is. I finally break my gaze, when i realize i've been staring at this poor girl for a minute. But i look back up immediately because something is telling me to not look away. Her subtle movements with the old broom, but also the hollow look in her eyes. Like she wishes to be anywhere else than there.

Status
4mo ago
Chapters
2
Rating
n/a
Age Rating
18+

Chapter 1

I slowly open my eyes and let them adapt to the sunlight peeking through my lace curtain and spider webs. Didn't sleep that great again, ever since i've been trying to quit drinking that much, mainly doing that because i'm so fucking tired of living like a peasant, always from hand to mouth.

Some time passes and i finally sit up, rubbing my face with my bruised hands. Grabbing the phone from the nightstand and without even looking at it, i already know what to expect, dad has called. Just like he always does. I'm not trying to complain, he's a good man, really. But sometimes dealing with his bullshit is too much, even for me.

I don't even bother to call him back, i know exactly what he needs. Sighing i throw on the first pair of jeans i see and an black, long sleeved shirt, that has definitely seen better days. The clothes were still laying in the ground from last night when i was too tired to fold them and put them to the closet. Not that i ever do, but you know, there is always first time for everything, but last night wasn't one of these times. Slipping on some converse, that have been worn soft over time. I usually never bother with the laces, too much trouble for nothing.

Walking out of the house to my car, i check my pocket and realize i forgot the lighter. ''Fuck...'' i mutter to myself. But since i'm too lazy to walk back, i guess i just have manage without it.

The drive is quiet, well if you look past the rattling noise the car makes every time i hit even even the smallest bump. Some country music playing on the radio, but it mostly feels like a backround noise if i'm being honest. The streets that i've known for so long look dim and hollow, not necessarily empty—just underfilled, as if the town had lost most of its weight over the years. Only a handful of people walking around.

I stop at the local convenience store, to get my old man some bread and peas. Funny enough, that's all he eats these days. I guess all the drugs he has done in his life have finally paid off, where he can only enjoy two foods that don't make him sick. I don't spend much time glazing at the store, i just grab the stuff i need and walk back to my truck. But damn do i need a smoke break before i drive more further. Looking around, i don't see anyone i could ask a lighter from and i don't have matches in the car. Kicking the old thing, i hear the soft echo down the empty street.

But just as i'm about to go back in the car, i notice something. Or rather someone. A girl, cleaning the old church stairs slowly, like it was punishment rather than routine. And if an actual church being just across the street from the little corner shop, where all the junkies would get high and then write some stupid messages to the walls, while trying not to piss themselves isn't a acknowledgment that our town is weird as fuck, then i don't know what is.

I finally break my gaze, when i realize i've been staring at this poor girl for a minute. But i look back up immediately because something is telling me to not look away. Her subtle movements with the old broom, but also the hollow look in her eyes. Like she wishes to be anywhere else than there.

''Fuck this...'' i mutter and shake my head. I have better things to do, then just stare at this girl clean all day. Finally climbing to the car and throwing the door shut behind me, maybe a little louder than i intended. The engine sounds rough, when i start the car. My eye shoots a quick glimpse to the chipped rearview mirror and i swear something flicks in me, it's quick but i still catch it. The reason being, she's not alone anymore. While talking to Pastor Parker i can't make out what he says to her, but whatever it is seems to just upset her even more.

I never realized that there was something going on with the whole fucking establishment, but i guess it makes sense. All religious people are a little crazy, that's why i never started went there, you'll just get sucked in there and you won't even notice til it's too late.



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