Pt15: Home Stream?

5.7K 183 319
                                    

⚠TRIGGER WARNING⚠

Mention of past Abuse and Trauma, Self Harm, Blood, Harsh Language

==========================================================

Your POV

Why is he letting use his things, I've been here for a total of an hour and he is already being nicer then any other place I've been. Why does he want me, when even I don't want me?

"Hey Y/n, is is okay if I come sit on the sofa?" Phil said quietly but still made me flinch.

"Yeah sorry, I can get off and sit on the floor if you want. I will do that, you deserve the sofa," I try and say, but the words come out weaker then I intended. As soon as I finish my sentence I stand up and start heading towards the corner on the room so I was out of the way.

"Hey, hey. No come back. There is space for everyone on this sofa, come sit down. We can find something to watch if you want."

Oh god, he is going to hit me, I'm sure his hits hurt a lot, but maybe if I don't go over he will just  hit me harder.

I start walking back over but I can feel my breaths becoming uneven and rapid, but that is when look down and see my arms, the shirt hadn't work as well as I had hoped. What once was a pale blue shirt was now almost completely soaked through with red. I'm not scared of blood, but I'm scared of others finding out and if it is red, they will know.

Before I could snap my self out of this train of thought and to cover my arms, I see a figure stand up from the sofa. Fuck. I forgot I was getting up to sit on the sofa so Phil doesn't get mad.

"Hey what's up?" Phil says getting closer to me and placing his hand of my arm. Instinctively, I pull my arm leaving my now purple coloured shirt, I quickly try and run and pull down the sleeve of my black hoddie. I try  and run to the do

"WIL," I hear Phil yell out to the kitchen.

Oh shit, they are mad now, they are going to start hitting.

If only you took Phils beating and not been a wimp about it they this wouldn't have happened. You fucking failure. Now you're just being a baby about getting hit. You deserve it for what you you did, and you know it. 

"Y/n?"

I look up and see Wil and a really bright light. This isn't where I was. Oh fuck.

"Hey, how do you feel? You've been out for about 30 minutes now," Wil says with a small but worried smile on his face.

"I am so sorry Si-u-r Wil, I didn't mean to worry you. I'm fine I swear just a bit tired. I sorry for sitting on your sofa to, sorry that you felt bad for me so you decided to foster me. I don't want to ruin your lives like I ruin every persons house I go so," I say. "I deserve each and everyone of your hit and cuts you give me."

"Come on, do you need a hand getting up?" Wil says putting his hand out. I don't take it.

"Come on. I want to talk to you. I promise that I won't hurt you."

I follow Wil down the corridor that went to 'my room', but to my surprise he opened up a door to a pristine bathroom. He is going to hurt me in here because tiles are easier to clean then carpet is. He sits down on the tiled floor and gestures for me to sit. He starts rummaging around in a small cupboard and pulls out a first-aid kit. 

"Can you please roll up your sleeves, I just wan to clean them so they don't get worse and wrap them properly so they can't get infected?" I hesitate before putting my arms out.

Saved by a loving heart.Where stories live. Discover now