Pressure

My head began to spin as I tried to grip the loom to keep myself from falling. Slowly, I regained composure. But then, I dared to glimpse at the stain on the pattern again, making me anxious. I could hear the past in the crack of my bones as I began to tense up and curl into a ball. Lord, what is wrong with me?? I felt light and heavy simultaneously as my thoughts began to whirl and slowly creep out of control. 

I began to wonder who would pick up the slack on the production line. My abuser, maybe?

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