My scars are a testament to my survival, a reminder that I am unbreakable. -Unknown.|Z Y R A|I remembered those days from my childhood all too well, as of they were scars etched into my very soul. The spiked belt, an instrument of pain, its bite searing into my young flesh, leaving behind not only physical wounds but also indelible memories of fear and helplessness. For most children, memories of their childhood might be a blur but for me, everything is crystal clear, like a curse always with me, in my mind, ruining my sanity. The sting of their slaps, a sharp reminder of their rage and my undesirable presence in their life, echoed in my senses even now. Each time their hand met my skin, on the little inconvenience, it felt like a betrayal, a breach of sacred trust between parent and child. The trust which was supposed to be earn, I gave them that simply, without asking for nothing bit affection in return, just like that. But only if, I
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