[DISCONTINUED] Intertwined (G Sans x Female Reader)

Chapter 19: Past Trauma Experiences

- Y/N's POV -

'I-- I'll try to explain it the best I can, but, I've always had trouble with my feelings ever since I was a kid, still up until now. When I was five, I was pried out of my mother's home by reinforcement along with my sister. My mother did nothing wrong. We were being fed, sheltered, protected, and showered with love, yet they took us away, just because of some hateful people who didn't like her because she was happy and had more than them. I and my sister ended up in the same foster care home luckily. When we arrived it was nice, the daughter of the family's household mainly took care of us, but the environment was safe until he arrived. When he arrived, it was strange, he was strange. He was a delinquent foster teenager, who had been passed from family to family. I don't remember his name, but I knew he smelled strongly of piss.'

G lightly chuckles at the last part. "Really?"

"Really." I gave G a light smile.

'His room was connected to ours through a bathroom, where the doors on each end could be locked. My sister was only two at the time and couldn't really comprehend what was going on. I didn't trust him. Even distinctively being a five at the time, I didn't like his aura or anything about him, not to mention he was messy. I didn't trust him around S/N, so I told her to never go in his room without me or some else, including an adult. To communicate from far distances in the house, we had walkie talkies. The second I didn't hear her respond, I immediately ran upstairs to his room through mine to find him gripping her arm refusing to let go or her forcefully sitting in his lap. He'd do the same thing to me. I'd practically tell him to let go of her and when he refused, I bite, clawed, screamed, and scratched at him, soon making him let go. 

After that, majority of the time I would hold my sister in my arms, and lock our bathroom door connected to our room and the front bedroom door so he couldn't get in at night. When I told my foster mother about his perverted inappropriate ways, she didn't believe and shooed me off telling me I was just making up some silly lies. I watched her 24/7 whether she was in the bathroom, in our room or downstairs. The last incident was when all three of us were in the living room watching tv, my sister was playing with her toys and went by him to get one of them. He gripped her arm and lifted her up into his lap, this caught my attention, she squealed and squirmed in discomfort. I immediately started to try and pry his arms from around her, she began to cry, making anger and distress rack through my body. I clawed my nails into his arm and he let go. 

I quickly took my sister off his lap and told her to go to our foster mother. Before I knew it, he had quickly snagged my wrist, telling me to sit on his lap. I told him 'no' and he pulled me back, bear hugging me, I was wearing a skirt. I tried yelling to our foster mother in the other guest room, but he clasped his hand over my mouth. I watched my sister as she stood there terrified, shaking, not knowing what to do. I didn't want her to see this. I bite down on his hand and screamed my foster mother's name, she didn't hear me. His hands went under my skirt, gripping my thighs. I heard the flyer of his pants unzip and looked down to see something I didn't want to see, I was terrified. I thrashed violently around in his hold, tears welling up in my eyes and screamed to the top of my lungs 'Rape'. He quickly let go of me, hearing the steps of our foster mother. I was shaking and went to my sister who stood there in state of shock, hugging her. We had gotten in trouble but not him, even after I told her what happened. When our real mother was allowed to have visitation with us, I told her about it and she was furious. She told our foster mother about the teenager situation with us and the next day or so, he was gone.

But that wasn't even the beginning. Since my mom still wasn't allowed to keep us yet, the courts decided for I and my sister to be separated among our father's side of the family since we had different dads. I went with my father, she went with her father's mother a.k.a. her grandmother. When we separated, it was very sudden, but we had no choice. At first my father was decent, but then after a week of living with him, his true colors showed. Because of his temper, he ended up getting a divorce, the wife took the children. He was devastated, I tried to cheer him up, but he only pushed me away, hurt and angry. I would always get in trouble unnecessarily because my father always accused me of doing something wrong, meaning military punishment and a thick leather belt whooping. Bruised skin and welts. Living with him my health declined, I became underweight for the age I was being seven, and I was depressed. He would ignore me, avoid me by going into his room, and when he was paying attention to me, it was always a threat, a swear word to call me, or an order. He would compare me to my half brother that I didn't know I had until I went to his birthday party. He made me feel like crap on the bottom of a shoe. My father would leave me in the apartment by myself during the day, on the couch or in my bedroom. He even told me I wasn't allowed to eat or drink, even when he's not there, I obeyed him, starving.