….Memories linger, the ghosts of yesterday, a bittersweet refrain, life’s sharpest swords….
CAMERON
By the time I step past the doors of the breakfast room, my hands are shaking.
I could feel their eyes trained on my back and it had taken everything in me to walk out with my head high and without stumbling.
But the very second I’m out of their line of sight , I can feel my breathing getting shallower by the second. So much so that I have to lean against the other side of the door, my either body now trembling with pent-up fury.
The memories come flooding back, like a tidal wave of pain and torture.
"Cheap whore."
I try to close my eyes against the words and shut them out but stubbornly they flash brightly behind the darkness of my lids.
Echoing themselves over and over again in my
