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Little Drummer Girl

The sound of a Kanye instrumental wakes her up. Thirty minutes later Bob Marley’s Three Little Birds finally gets her out of bed, but every little thing is not alright. She’s struggling. It hurts all over. She puts her face in her hands and slumps over the side of her bed. Her head is throbbing. What happened to me?

She begins to scan the room in hopes for some recollection of the night before. She sees clothes strewn across the floor, half-empty water bottles along the ledge, and balls of tissue paper on the bed. Nothing out of the ordinary. Until she looks down and gasps in horror.

Feeling bruised and battered, she clutches her chest and starts to remember it all. The crying, the screaming – the beating. Flashbacks of the night before slowly invade her head until she is left with a bloody mess. How could someone be so cruel? How could someone do this to her? How could she just allow it to happen?

Because it wasn’t the first time. She’s spent years in this abusive relationship. Years of making excuses. Years of being a hypocrite. Too strong to give up – yet too weak to leave. Lather, rinse, repeat. It was a vicious cycle she just couldn’t get out of. She knew what she had to do, she knew all her friends were right. But she just couldn’t break free. Everytime she thought she was ok, everytime she thought she had enough strength to follow common sense, she found herself right back where she started from.

How could she have let it get this far?

It was time to hop in the shower. Crying in the shower always made her feel better. Washing away the dirt, and the evidence while mentally cleansing herself as well. But then she opened the door and stood face to face with the culprit. She froze. She couldn’t believe her eyes. At only 5’3″, and 115 lbs at most you’d think she could easily take her.

But looking at her own reflection in the mirror proved to be the worst beating of all. YOU DID THIS TO YOU. Being your own worst enemy is a battle you must fight alone. The scars are as deep as you make them. And everytime you win, you lose. The white flag was just begging to be waved. She knew what she had to do. She just didn’t know if she was going to surrender herself, or surrender to herself.

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