Trigger/Content Warning: Sexual Assault
She saw the boys surrounding her sister. She saw her sister’s face bloody and beaten. She saw bruises covering her arms. And then she heard her scream. One of the boys dropped down in front of her, knife in hand. He spread open her legs.
And then Delilah shot up in bed, the heat from the sun already beating down heavily upon her forehead. Fear found its way into her sweat. It dripped into her eye and made her jump. She rushed over to the phone to call her best friend.
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Dante reached into his bag and pulled out a pair of pink-rimmed glasses, handing them to Delilah. He smiled.
“I’m scared.”
“There’s nothing to be scared of, D. You think I’d let you get hurt?”
GenderTerror 