"Why do you never flinch when I try to scare you?"
She huffed with a frown on her face.
Her brows squinted together as she eyed me in distress with a touch of envy,
And all I could was give her a sorry smile in return.
For her innocent twelve-year-old mind would never understand the irony behind the stillness of my body.
Her mind would never understand the stories behind my neutral face.
The numbness I have towards these little scary surprises didn't come because I am strong.
I don't flinch because I am brave.
I am not brave.
Never brave.
I don't flinch,
Because I've faced way too many jump-scares,
Way too many nightmares to be scared by something so small and naive.
The sudden noise that comes out of her small mouth holds nothing,
Compared to the horrors I've faced behind closed doors.
The sudden touch of her soft hands holds nothing,
Compared to the hands I've seen trying to leave fingerprints on my skin a thoudsnd times.
The sudden shake on my shoulder can't be
Compared to the shaken position I've been in,
So many, many times before.
I don't flinch because I've flinched away far too many times from too many things.
I stay still becausr that's what I was taught to do when facing something that exceeded nightmares.
I don't get scared because that's what I always am...
Devestatingly, traumatizingly, Scared.
