Adena M'lynn's Voice

Chapter Two She didn’t grow up with imaginary friends. She grew up with real ones—just no one else could see them. The first time she realized she wasn’t alone in her own head, she was eight. Sitting in the back of a classroom, staring at the chalkboard, drifting again. The teacher called on her, and just like that, someone else stood up inside her skin and gave an answer with a voice that wasn’t quite hers. The other kids stared. The teacher didn’t notice. But she did. She remembered watching her own hand move, her own lips speak. She heard the words, but she hadn’t chosen them. It was like watching someone else drive her body from behind a fogged-up window. That’s when she knew—something was living inside her. Several somethings. They didn’t come all at once. They arrived in whispers, in fragments. Some were loud. Some were silent. Some came to keep secrets. Some came to protect her from things even she didn’t want to remember. And all of them, in their own way, were trying to ...

In the shadow of understanding, a stark revelation unfolds, narrated by a voice once submerged in the innocence of youth. "It really was never my job to fight the bullies for you," the voice asserts, its timbre laced with the dawning of an overdue truth. In this confession lies the heart of a child who mistook responsibility for affection, who stood small yet fierce against the giants of malice, believing it was their duty to be the shield when, in all reality, the roles should have been reversed, and the protection should have been theirs to receive. "It really was never my job to make you happy," the voice continues, its clarity growing with each word. Here, the child, burdened by the weight of an adult’s emotional well-being, reflects on the unfairness of a world where a young heart felt compelled to juggle the fragile ornaments of another's contentment. This realization speaks of a backward world, where the innocence of youth was overshadowed by the hefty ex...

by adena m’lynn My body was not my own Taken without consent Forced to endure the violence of his loin. My spirit battered and bent Too young to comprehend The evil he portends Stealing what wasn't his to take Leaving scars that forever ache He convinced me of his love,  Yet locked me in silence with every shove, Trapped in fear's cruel vice Fate was nothing more than a roll of the dice The pain he caused haunts me still  But I'm healing  Shedding shame that wasn't mine As I find my voice and say No more will he have power All secrets brought to light My spirit will now fly unbroken  I emerged from his blight.