Forever and Always

Chapter 13

"What about you? What are yours about?" I asked.

"Uhh..." She hesitated.

"You don't have to talk about it."

"No, I want to."

She paused for a minute before speaking again.

"My mom also died when I was young. She was diagnosed with stage four Cancer when I was three. It was too late for any of the treatments to work so all we could do was wait for her to go. She...uhh...died a month after my fourth birthday. At the time I was too young to understand what was going on. I remember asking my dad "When's mommy coming home?" after we left the hospital the night she died. He just responded with "Honey, mommy went away for a little while." I then asked when she was coming home and all he could say was "I don't know, sweetie." I didn't understand that "for a little while" meant that she wasn't coming back and I wasn't going to see her again." Tears fell from her eyes and she quickly wiped them away.

Tears filled my eyes as well but I held them back as best I could.

"A few months after my mom died, my dad was on his way home from work when a semi-truck driver fell asleep at the wheel and ran a red light. He slammed into the side of my dad's car. The driver was fine, however, my dad was considered DOA. I was at my grandparents house when it happened. I was sick and had to stay home from daycare. I remember seeing my grandma's face when she got the call telling her that her son was killed in a car accident. She was devistated. My grandpa, who was managing to keep his composure, went and got my dad's belongings from the hospital and had to sign that it was for sure my dad's body. After about a week, they started to hit me; saying it was my fault that their son was dead, that I was the reason my dad was taken away from me. And I believed it. I still do. He wouldn't have even been on that road if I would have just went to daycare like I was supposed to. I deserve the abuse. It's my fault, Peter. It's my fault. I should be the one dead, not him. I am better off dead." She let out a sob and tears streamed down her cheeks.

I wiped the tears that fell from my eyes before moving over to Y/n and pulling her out of the chair she was sitting in. I looked her in the eyes before speaking.

"Hey, don't you ever say that again. That wasn't your fault and you aren't better off dead. I never want to hear you say that again. Ever." I stated sternly.

She flinched at my tone and I pulled her into my arms, wrapping them tightly around her shoulders. She wrapped her arms tightly around me and cried into my shirt which muffled her sobs.

"That was you in that drawing, wasn't it?" I asked.

She nodded into my shirt and my heart broke even more. Her legs gave out and I slowly lowered her to the ground. She tucked her face into the crook of my neck as I stroked her hair and tried to comfort her as best I could. I rubbed my hand up and down her spine, her tears soaking my neck and shirt.

A few minutes of holding her tightly and comforting her, she started to regain control of her breathing and her sobs lowered in volume as she slowly loosened her grip around my torso. She sniffled and lifted her head off my chest.

"I'm being a baby." She pulled away and quickly wiped her tears off her face.

"You're not being a baby, Y/n." I reassured.

She flashed a pained smile and rested her head back on my chest, encasing her arms back around me and wrapping her legs around my body as well.

After about ten minutes of just sitting there in each other's arms, Y/n's head slid down my chest slightly. I looked down and she was sound asleep. She was always super tired the morning after a nightmare occured. I slowly stood up and carried her into my room, placing her down on the bottom bunk of my bed.

The sweatshirt she was wearing slid up her arms slightly, revealing a few cuts across her wrists as her arms fell from around my body. What the hell? These are new. They would have healed by now if they were from when I found her in that alley. When did this happen? Is she harming herself? 

I slid her sleeve up a little farther, showing more cuts, each one looking newer and deeper. Oh God, Y/n. I sat on the bed next to her and rested my elbow onto my knee, placing my shaking hand over my mouth as my mind raced through a bunch of crazy scenarios.

Why didn't she come to me instead of hurting herself? How long has this been going on? Was I one of the reasons for her to do this? This is my fault. I should have kept a closer eye on her. I could have prevented this and I didn't. I was too blind to see anything was going on. I was trying to protect her and I failed. It's my job to protect people and I can't even do that right.