The pretty oneFebruary 28, 2012
She learned to braid her hair tightly, to keep it wrapped close down her spine, something no one would touch. She learned to scrub her face clean and to keep it unadorned, to wear only the clothes that hid the outline of her body rather than those that followed it closely. He kept his anger at redline pressure at all times, and these were the ways she kept herself out of its hot and angry blast zone radius.
She had been the pretty one, once. Once, she’d been the one who smiled.