The first string appeared the day after Nia was married. When she saw it there, anchored into her shoulder and stretching up to disappear into the kitchen ceiling, she told herself she could always go back. She didn’t want too, of course—she loved Richard more than anything and couldn’t picture a future without him, yet the idea of marriage felt outdated. It was a lot of money to spend when they would live the same lives together with or without the ceremony. Nia just didn’t see the point. But everyone, including her mother, grandmother, and all her aunts, seemed to think it was proper and necessary, so she went along with it. It seemed to make Richard happy anyway. Besides, the string wasn’t that much of an annoyance, it was just that sometimes her shoulder would twitch, out of her control. It didn’t happen too often, and she had full command over the rest of her body, so she figured it was best to ignore the thin little strand. A few months after the w...
This Content is for Adults 18+ Trigger Warnings: Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse; PTSD from Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, including Intrusive Thoughts of Being Violently Killed by a Monster During Sexual Encounters. FOR THE GIRLS WITH MONSTERS. The monster was born in a dark room filled with the smell of sweat and used genitals. The curtains had been drawn to hide the foul deeds done in its confines. The monster glutted on the stench of stale bodies and the shame of a trust turned sour. It filled itself until it grew so large it might burst, then it hid its bloated body inside the little girl sleeping on the corner of the bed. Imani, the little girl, woke from a feverish dream and her eyes landed on a vase shaped like a deer. White lilies had been stuffed into it— their brightness came to her eyes even in the darkness. Imani walked over, took the lilies out, and ripped the petals into small pieces. She didn’t know why she did it, really, but it felt good. ...