Isso mesmo 👍
Em inglês não se usa travessão para falas.
⚠️ Warning / Disclaimer
Warning: This is a 100% fictional story, with no intention of encouraging or romanticizing abuse or self-harm.
If you suspect you are a victim, or if you are experiencing suicidal thoughts, please seek help.
You are not alone. Your life is valuable.
I do not own Jujutsu Kaisen. This is a fan-made story, written by a fan for fans.
Dialogue is indicated with " "
Thoughts are indicated with italics
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São Paulo – Brazil
December 25th, 20XX, 4:33 AM – First Person POV
At the initial awakening of my consciousness, the first of my senses to greet me is pain low in my womb; a cramp far weaker than the hells I am used to, but present nonetheless. After registering the pain, my eyelids—still heavy with sleep and throbbing with the familiar pulse of a hangover—slowly open to a scene of darkness. It doesn't last long, thanks to millions of years of human evolution allowing my eyes to adapt, and as my surroundings come into focus, all drowsiness vanishes…
I realize I am in an unfamiliar bed, naked, covered only to just below my shoulders by a single white sheet—so thin I can see the pink of my nipples beneath it. A double bed, wide enough that it wouldn't even fit in most houses, raised on a low platform in a corner that didn't even take up a quarter of an enormous suite, with exits leading to a bathroom and a balcony.
"What…?"
The whisper barely escapes my lips before a sharp twinge makes me bring a hand to my throat. It burns—not the normal dryness from being too long without water, but more like irritation. Slowly opening and closing my mouth, I notice a strange taste, like bleach, lingering on my tongue.
What is happening?
I ask myself. My last memories trace back to the Christmas party at my family's suspended house—a small gathering, just me, my parents, the upstairs neighbor, and his son.
My eyes remain fixed on the trail of clothes scattered on the floor. No answers.
I don't remember how I got here…
I don't remember what I did here…
My fingers tighten around my throat.
What is happening?
I repeat, with more urgency—but still, nothing comes back. My grip unconsciously tightens.
What is happening?!
The voice in my mind screams what my burning throat cannot. The pale skin of my neck reddens beneath my fingers as breathing becomes harder, the pounding inside my skull growing worse with every second of panic. I want to remember. I need to remember…
…until my gaze drops.
What happened to me?
Panting
I don't know.
I truly don't.
Panting
What is happening?
I insist once more, looking down at my naked chest in the darkness, rising and falling in a frantic rhythm beneath unfamiliar sheets.
Panting
I don't know.
And I'm afraid of finding out.
Crushing the fabric covering me between my fingers in a spike of anxiety, my trembling eyes drift even lower—to the space between my legs…
Dark red stains spread across the sheet.
"…What happened?"
The pain in my throat is overwhelmed by shock as the question escapes into the air—the one whose answer I truly, from the bottom of my heart, wish I would never know.
creak
The bed creaks, and my gaze instinctively snaps to the side. My irises shrink to pinpoints as I meet the figure driving the final nails into this coffin of despair.
Beside me lies a massive man, his weight visibly sinking the mattress. Bare back—rancid skin, fat and wrinkled like a toad's—paired with the back of a bald head surrounded by sparse, harsh gray strands, betraying his age.
No… No way…
I was…
My esophagus contracts. Something rises, burning up my throat, and my body twists on reflex as I empty everything onto the floor beside the bed.
Sounds of vomiting
"This can't be happening…"
The bed suddenly creaks again, as if to remind me that cruel reality will not wait for my shock to pass. I feel the warmth and slackness of the old man turning in his sleep toward me.
The slightest touch against my back is like an electric shock, triggering an involuntary response—born of fear, disgust… of the trauma my subconscious buried from this night—hurling my naked body out of the sheets and onto the floor with a dull, wet thud.
"How did this happen?!"