Weak

Never trust a drunk man

He was just as monstrous as the first abuser I lived with. We were camping on the side of a river. As the sky started to dim with the thoughts of what was to come the water seemed to try and warn me, it was telling me to run, hide, and don’t come out till day. My mom went to sleep in a tent meant to fit two, but the man who was to take the second spot was lurking around chugging beers like he was a man deprived of water. I was sitting near the water feeling it slowly rise and fall around my foot. He was mumbling behind me, as he got closer the words became clear “get in the water”, now, I told him no because it was nearing winter and the water was cold. His eyes darkened with my answer, it seemed I had answered wrong. I stood up and he is pushing me. One push, two, three, four pushes and I’m down. I fell over a log, which cut a gash in my leg. Half my body soaked in ice water, he was happy. After he wondered around ,eventually, he found the tent and went to bed. I didn’t notice the gash until after he left, my body was rushed with fright and that was all I could feel, but now it was wearing off. I look at my leg and see blood, about ½ inch from my ankle to my 1inch under my knee. I cried myself to sleep. I couldn’t wake my mom because the monster was in the same tent and would wake. I was alone. I was in pain. I was weak.