Amaris
ashtynshortauthorstory about abusehomeless youth stories
Instead, I went to my father—but he forbade me from stepping in, we do not interfere with human ordeals, he had said.
I'd still left an anonymous note describing what I had walked in on in the bathroom, but then I found out later that same day that I'd been too late—he was already gone. And those boys? They were only expelled, and that was only because one of them confessed. But, what kind of justice is that? And since when does rape not warrant jail time?
Amaris lays down next to the creek in her wolf form, resting her head on her paws, her ears twitching this way and that, likely listening out for any kind of a threat that could be lurking within the coverage the dense forest supplies.
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