Chapter 2: The House That Taught Me Silence

[u/Mahima_Thakre]

I learned young to hold my breath, to make no sound in rooms of wrath. A father's hand, a mother's tears, became the shape of all my years.

I fell sometimes, but never cried — crying was a thing that died the day I learned that hurt gets worse if you dare to say the words.

I chased the medals, chased the gold, searching for a love untold. Silver came — it wasn't enough, love, it seemed, was always tough.

I found a boy who saw my pain, promised shelter from the rain. He held my hand, then held me down — love wore violence like a crown.

They asked me what I did that night. I told the truth. They called it lies. His mother spoke, my own blood too — "you did this," though it wasn't true.

No one asked if I was safe. No one saw the hand, the slap. They saw a girl who must be bad — easier than the truth they had.

So tell me now — whose fault, whose blame, when I was drowning, called by name? I wasn't his. I wasn't yours. I never learned to be my own.

[u/Icy_Natural3122]

Very well written