Hidden Wound

Dear Delyara, There is a room in my mind that I keep locked, where the memory of that night stays hidden from the world. I go to parties, I laugh at jokes, and I lead a 'normal' life, but that room is always there, humming in the background. Sometimes a smell or a certain tone of voice triggers the lock, and for a second, I’m back there, powerless and small. I’ve never told a soul because I don’t want to see the pity in their eyes or hear the questions I can't answer. It’s exhausting to maintain this version of myself that is 'unbroken.' I am a masterpiece of repair, held together by glue and silence.