I smoke my cigarette in a corner in the bathroom; God forbid my father smells the scent. I mean he did smoke for 22 years—but I am female.
Why does he have the option to commit slow paced suicide but I need to hide in bathrooms to huff and puff?
Then they ask me why I claim Feminism is a way of life, it is a struggle to survive, it is a fight for freedom.
I quickly put my cigarette out when I hear footsteps passing by my bathroom door. Did he smell it? I light a candle and open the bathroom window quickly and freeze, listening with everything I am.
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