Short Story – Self-Worth

Warning – This story may upset some people. It is only short, but I am hoping it does what I want it to do.

Note – This is not gender specific. I set the genders for the roles in this story because I am a girl, and I am straight. This doesn’t mean the story is set this way. This story you can change the gender roles, and you can change the sexuality setting, it is still the same for everyone.

P.S. – I also don’t want this to be narrowed down to physical abuse. It isn’t just about that. There are many other kinds of abuse, and it works in the same rough stages that I applied to here. I just used it as an image to represent all because it is the one most people understand.

I was going to put a picture with it, but I don’t know what image would convey the feeling I was hoping to go for with this. So, I’m letting the story paint the picture in your head instead.


Short Story – Self Worth
I sometimes feel her looking at me, watching me through a screen. I can sense her like she is in front of me through a window, but her eyes never leave the screen. She is focused on me.
She attacks me, every night, in my sleep when I am truly alone.
I am standing outside, the floor littered with leaves. They were dry, crunchy, and matched the colour of their original homes. Branches that stretch high into the sky. I am familiar with this place, I come here often.
I remember the last time I was here, the trees were green, and shining. I was with all of my friends, laughing, joking, and showing off the brightest parts of me.
The sky is black, not even a moon to shed some light. She is watching me. I can almost see her. Whenever I walk to find her, the walk is endless, and my feet bleed. I spend all my efforts seeking what her worth is. What makes her so important that she would watch me? What makes me so important that she would watch me? I want to meet her. She is so close, and yet so far.
I was about to start my walk, when some leaves crunch behind me. Another crunch, then another, confirms confident steps of another presence. Is it her? I turn, my eager anticipation pounds against my chest.
It is anything but her. I can feel her at my back, still watching me, while this new figure comes to meet me. He is all human, and shadows. A hoody darkens the features of his face, and his clothes leave everything to the imagination. I can’t help but feel a word slither to the tip of my tongue. Attraction.
He touchs my face, it is warm, soft, and inviting. There is a patience with me that I have never felt with another, the promise of complete devotion tickles across my skin. I love it. I want that. How beautiful a feeling is to want, and be wanted in return? He slowly turns me to face her.
I still can’t see her, but I know she is watching me. Can she see my happiness? Does it make her happy? Does it make her proud?
He whispers in my ears words I can not hear, I feel him mean every word. He pulls out a black cloth, and blinds my sight. That’s fine, I don’t need to see him to know that he is perfect. He will never hurt me.
I feel a tug on my material layers. They are not coming away, I can feel them still cling to my body. Why is he tugging at my clothes? If he wants something he should just ask. He will ask me right?
I hear a rip on my concealing shields. He is tearing away at me, breaking me down to my bare self. He wants to see me. For me. I know he does, he loves me, and I love him. He will never hurt me.
I feel her brow furrow, she is questioning him. Though she is not asking him the questions, she is asking me. No, she can’t think that way, he is beautiful, and I love him. Please, I promise he is just frustrated. I feel excuses slip through my mouth without me speaking. She just frowns at me. I-…
Something hits my arm, bruising my flesh. It was an accident he didn’t mean it. I swear, it won’t happen again. He steps on my foot, I do not cry. He bumps into my back, and I do not cry. Instead, I feel her rage.
She is gritting her teeth, shaking her head at me. She throws fits at him, and that just makes him irritated. Then more accidents happen. I feel a sharp cut on my chest. A warm trail slips down my body. She demands him to leave. He-…
The blindfold falls from my face. He is standing in front of me. He is no longer beautiful. He is no longer human. His form is twisted into something sharp, and demon. He approaches me, his hands are blades that slice into my skin with every touch. I do nothing. I watch as he brings his face to my ear, whispers words that spike tears to my eyes. I say nothing. He bites into my shoulder, drinking the life from me, all my energy draining away. I feel nothing.
She is still watching me. Now she does not fight him. Now she does not hear me. Instead, she just watches, her face permanently pained, hateful, and disappointed.
He pushes me to my knees. I am naked, bruised, bleeding, cold, and dying. Then he leaves me. She-…
The forest shatters around me. Leaving only a blackness, and a mirror. There she is. I gasp, she is beautiful, she is happy, she is me.


Thank you for reading.