By the time I was old enough to understand what was going on it was already too late.
It was too late for me to back out.
Too late for me to turn around.
It was all I had ever known.
I didn’t know any other way.
But I knew enough of the world to understand what we were doing was wrong.
But there was nothing I could do.
I didn’t know any other way of life.
So I did nothing.
I said nothing.
And continued doing what I was raised to do.
The only thing I knew how to do.
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Categories: flash fiction