Ledge

TRIGGER WARNING PLEASE READ THIS SECTION! Seeing this note means the book that you are about to read could contain triggering situations or actions. This book is subject to one or more of the triggers listed below. Please note that this a universal trigger warning page that is included in Grey Huffington books and is not specified for any paticular set of characters, book, couple, etc. This book does not contain all the warnings listed. It is simply a way to warn you that this particular book contains things/a thing that may be triggering for some. This is simply my way of recognizing the reality and life experiences of my tribe and making sure that I properly prepare you for what is to unfold within the pages of this book. violence sexual assualt drug addiction suicide homicide miscarriage/child loss child abuse emotional abuse PAPERBACKS HARDCOVERS SHORT STORIES AUDIOBOOKS MERCH AND MORE… Copyright 2022 Grey Huffington All rights reserved. The content of this book must not be reproduced, duplicated or shared in any manner without written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations or samples in a book review, blog, podcast, or social media post without harmful or infringement intent. In the event that this work of fiction contains similarities to real locations, people, events, or situations, it is unintentional unless otherwise expressed by the author. instagram.com/greyhuffington STAY IN CONTACT want live updates? text greyhuffington to 1 (833) 315 2372 instagram.com/greyhuffington CONTENTS LEDGEPrologueLEDGEChapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Chapter 7Chapter 8Chapter 9Chapter 10Chapter 11Chapter 12Chapter 13Chapter 14Chapter 15Chapter 16Chapter 17Chapter 18Deleted Scenes+EpilogueDiscover MoreMore from Grey Huffingtonghuffington.com PROLOGUE Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. The sound of the slowly leaking water landing in the bucket that sat in the middle of my bathroom floor was most prominent in the silence. And, as much as I hated a soundless moment because it gave my thoughts the opportunity to grow louder, the simple thought of television or music overstimulated me. With a heavy sigh, I closed my eyes and welcomed the abundance of emotions that were behind my conjoined lids. Urrrrrrrrrn. The front door closed, slowly, signaling my mother’s departure. Though it occurred every night at the same time, it never got easier. In fact, it was the most difficult part of my day. Please don’t go. I wanted to scream but the words wouldn’t come out. She’s gone. My six-year-old brain quickly processed as my eyes began to sting in the darkness of my bedroom. Across my nose and onto the side of my face, my tears drained. The others hit the bed, making the loudest, most silent scream one would ever hear. I wished, desperately, that I had the gumption to rise from my bed and call after her, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. There’s no use, I summed. Not only would she ignore my pleas and continue with business as usual, but the consequences were far too horrid. Fear confined me to my room. Sometimes, it was safest here. At least until the sound of the door slamming against the threshold rocked my core. At that moment, each and every night, there was no place safe enough to run or hide. “It’s going to be okay Mr. Stuffy,” I whispered, tearfully. More than anything else, I was remorseful for the things that my incredibly soft, brown teddy had witnessed. Just like me, he didn’t deserve the experiences he’d been forced to endure. Every day, I wished we could take each other’s pain away, but I’d learned that it was impossible. “It’s going to be okay,” I said, again, patting his round belly to prepare him for the inevitable. Or, maybe, I was preparing myself. Maybe it was me who I was comforting. Maybe it was me who I was coaxing. Maybe it was me who I was reminding that everything would be okay. Maybe that was it. Discomfort and anxiousness quickly followed my words. A deep, weighted sigh pushed through my lips. It was the first of many that I knew was to come while sleep dodged me. I closed my eyes anyway and began counting upward. “One. Two. Three. Four.” Seventy-six. That’s how far I counted before the familiar thudding halted all movement and thought. The method I used to cope to silence the craziness in my head no longer sufficed. The altering, very dominating sound of large feet stomping in my direction canceled all else. My thin frame began to shiver as if I was jacketless in negative twelve-degree weather. But, I wasn’t. In fact, I was in my bedroom, tucked underneath my cover which was believed to be the safest place for a child. However, it wasn’t. Run. Hide. Scream. My thoughts sounded off in my head. Had any of those ever supported my case in the past, then I would’ve. But, because I knew they wouldn’t, I remained still, unmoving other than my quivering frame that rattled against my sheets, involuntarily. Urrrrrrrrrn. The door that desperately needed fixing crept open. It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay. Over and over, at an insanely rapid pace, I repeated in my head. It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay. But it wasn’t. My delusion stemmed from my optimism and pure innocence as an six-year-old who only saw the good in humans, even those who were evil. My little heart couldn’t help but believe that things would be okay. Telling myself that there was greater on the opposite side of this all gave me something to hope for and I didn’t hope for much. Not often at least. Probably not at all. Though my eyes were already closed, I squeezed my lids tighter as the halted stomping started up again. This time, they were so close that I could hear the creaking of the floorboards underneath the pressure they caused. The pungent and very familiar smell of filth and disgust seemed to be the chosen