#xprodigii

                ❛    what do you want me to say?    ❜      forgiveness doesn’t come easily to scarlett   :      throughout her entire life, she can count in one hand the amount of times she has allowed someone to come back into her life again, unzipped her chest and found them there, again.  forgiveness doesn’t come easily to scarlett except when it came to them   :     she forgave again and again and again.  every yell  and  every curse,  every time their hands met her skin, their fingers wrapped around her body, leaving marks that the eyes see, and marks that they don’t.   she forgave, she became, she accepted it as a part of life.

             her lips tremble, still frozen in place by the look on his eyes   :   she knows it, as well as anything.  knows the way his fingers wrap around the whiskey glass, knows the way his nostrils flare, his brows arch    ——     apologize, apologize, say that he’s correct, apologize, apologize.  she moves not a muscle     :    head held high, eyes meeting his in absolute defiance.  forgiveness doesn’t come easy to scarlett, and forgiveness can’t come again.     ❛    he murdered my mother, phillip.   ❜   

             it does not surprise her   :   when the glass hits the wall by her side, shattering on the floor, a shard of it getting caught on the skin of her arms. she flinches because there is nothing else to be done   :   only to close her eyes, sharp features sharper, taking in the warmth of the blood that wants to run through her arms.  liar, you fucking slut   —–     still, she remains impassive  :  though her heart begs her to crumble, her mind knows that it is not the time, neither the place, to allow her emotions to get the best of her. he deserves none of it   :   he does not deserve to know how much she still aches for him, how much power this family   (  it’s only him now   —–     that is barely a family   )  still holds over her head.       ❛    how is it that you can forgive him for all the lies and corruption and blood, but can not forgive me?  after all  —–   after all he put me through.   ❜   after all you put me through. 

            her lips tremble, years of abuse tearing through her flesh as glass   :   how is it, that he still holds this weight over her?   shut up, you cunt, he snaps, and she flinches  ——   this isn’t as it’s supposed to be, this isn’t how it goes in the movies.   in the movies, they keep their head high. in the movies, fear does not take over every cell in their body.     in the movies, defiance is less frightening, more heroic.       ❛    i can’t forgive him. i’ve already said it, i don’t want  —–   ❜   she should have seen it coming, she knows, should have seen his hands wrapping around her throat before they were there, should have read the signs, should have   ——-    her eyes water, throat begging for breath, and it hurts, and it hurts, and it hurts.    ❛    i don’t want anything from him. he’s done enough.   ❜     she manages to say in between gasps, fingers trembling as she tries to push him away, to make him leave. 

            you are an ungrateful little whore, just like your cunt of a mother, he says, hatred spilling through every word, every move, every glance. she pushes harder, finally getting him away from her. she moves away, feeling a shard of glass entering her foot as she does so.    she will not cry. she will not give him the satisfaction.        ❛    you can tell your lawyers that i do not want anything. it’s yours. you   —–   ❜     be brave, saith my heart. i am a soldier. i have seen worse sights than this.      ❛   you always said i was nothing more than a bastard. it’s your birthright, is it not?   ❜    she does not know what it is that she sees on his eyes   :   fear, perhaps, or disbelief    —–    that she’d dare to say this, that she’d dare to say it and believe in every word that leaves her lips. i’m stronger, she wants to say. better. sharper.   ❛    i think you should leave my apartment now.   ❜  

THE SECRET HISTORY // @xprodigii

             BEAUTY IS TERROR // WHATEVER WE CALL BEAUTIFUL, WE QUIVER BEFORE IT.    she mutters, as her hips move from right to left, from left to right, a SICKENING performance that she knows all too well, CHAINED  &  STUCK   &  OBLIGATED.   nothing of this is what she wants, nothing of this is what she needs. but this is not her choice, and this is not her say. ONE, TWO, THREE and down, hands running through her hair. she sees the way those men look at her, and she hates.   it is a SICKENING feeling that takes over her body, a disgust that covers every cell in her body, from head to toe, that crawls underneath her skin and TAKES OVER.   BEAUTY IS TERROR.  O’, MY ENEMY, DO I TERRIFY? 

            she can feel his eyes on the back of her head, can feel the CHOKER tight against her throat. every bruise evident on her tan skin, every hurt clear on her  BEATEN  &  TIRED   eyes.   she didn’t use to feel this tired before. it didn’t feel this painful before. not fair, not fair, not fair. LEFT, RIGHT, HANDS ON YOUR THIGH.  you used to love dancing, don’t you remember, little girl? now it feels like a CHORE.  she closes her eyes and begs it to SHUT UP. 

             THAT’S ENOUGH.   she hears his voice before she can feel the pull --- but she KNOWS enough to keep her STANDING. she has learned how to walk on SIX INCH HEELS, has learned how to kill a man with it. she hates, she hates, she hates.    WHY DO YOU LOOK SO SAD, SCARLETT? YOU LOOKED BEAUTIFUL UP THERE.     she has no answer for him, but she nods still, and looks down, down, down. she can still feel his touch on her skin, his words still ringing on her ears   (  come on, please. run away with me. please. you need to get out of this place.  )   you’re a stupid little bitch. that’s why you didn’t go. you should have gone, little girl. you’d be happy there.  SHUT UP.