I need space, time, and effort to move forward from the scars and pain but I need the courage to do so. Malia said as she stands in front of a mirror. Turning off all social media and focusing on her was something that she needed. Waking up in the morning, finding the courage to look herself in the mirror. Trying to forgive herself for allowing a man to destroy her personality. She felt disgusted, she felt angry about everything. Now she can breathe after 23 years of trials, pains, sufferings over stupidity and anger. She couldn't deal with anything anymore. She was tired. Malia stands in the mirror, feeling sick, dizzy, and overwhelmed with pain from nightmares, and from any sorts of remembrance that she felt, and haven't got rid of it.
She took off her robe in front of the mirror. For a second, the feeling of being angry and hurt. She hid everything. She became numb as she looked herself in the mirror, dancing to the music of her Google Mini that she had in the room. Then the feelings of hurt came back when she finally ran out of breath. Her chest started to hurt. The beat of the music didn't allow herself to dance. Tears ran down her face.
Her head started to feel dizzy but she finally sat down in the room. Sitting on the bed, crying loudly, not being ashamed of it. She quickly riped her tears as she felt the anger of the pain towards Cray come to the surface. Anything that represented him, she burned. Like waiting to exhale, she grabbed everything that was his. First, she had to put some clothes but instead she dramatically laid in her bed, crying her tears out, feeling the pain that he caused and knowing that if she confronted him about it, it wouldn't change a thing. He would still be that same pathetic little boy that looked like his father, going into his same character cause it gotten him respect and sex from women that he secretly hated. Everything Cray did, his father did. And to him it was an honor and legacy to disrespect, hurt, the women that he couldn't control. Hurting his family would be great but she wouldn't allow herself to go that far with it anymore. Since the family had to find out about her the way she presented herself, she felt angry that nobody believed that was his wife. That made her feel less existence. She didn't feel like she existed part of anything. It made her feel hurt, even though the worst is over, the anger was still in her heart, deep down, filled with rage, filled with hate, filled with disgust, filled with bitterness.
If she would have texted him and in his eyes, it would have been reaching out to him. If she would have been reaching out, calling him, stalking him. She would have been more like him but although he never stalked as much as she known of. Even though secretly he did, nobody was going to know that. Cray was full of surprises and secrets. Malia couldn't handle it any longer. It felt like something crashed her and something had hit her really deep. The memories still was in her mind, the scars linger and the knives sticks to the part of her heart where someone would have to get it out.