DANCING AT MY FUNERAL - An Adopted by Yungblud Story (Book Two)

CHAPTER TWO: PACKAGE

TRIGGER WARNING - THIS CHAPTER WILL INCLUDE: ABUSE, SEXUAL ASSAULT, HOMOPHOBIA/TRANSPHOBIA

THE ENTIRETY OF THIS CHAPTER WILL BE IN THE READER'S POINT OF VIEW.

this chapter is heavier towards the beginning. read at your own discretion.

enjoy.

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A bit more time has passed now. Well, it feels like a lot longer than it is. Two weeks have passed since Dom last sent me that polaroid and all the notes and stuff, I'm due for another package soon. I hope everyone put in a letter again this time. I like hearing from all of them. It's nearly March now and I've had two more escape attempts in just as many weeks, both of which failed. Suddenly, I hear my mom shout out in anger, shock, and... confusion? Curious, I nearly begin to make my way downstairs. Before I can even get down the first step,

"I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOUR LITTLE FRIEND IN COURT HAD IT ALL COVERED, F/N? HOW THE FUCK IS THERE ALREADY A RETRIAL DATE?!" My mom rages at my father.

Oh my god. Oh my fucking god. I'm gonna get out of here. I nearly race down the steps in excitement before hearing an enraged calling of my incorrect name. Shit. I begin to slowly come downstairs, my excitement now completely gone. I know what's about to happen. I stop in front of my parents in the living room, seeing a letter in their hands. It's not Dom's package, at least. If they find out Dom's been sending me things, they'll kill me on the spot. I stand completely still in front of them, scared to even breathe too loud. My father speaks first:

"So. We've got until March 28th with you, rat. That's the retrial date: exactly a month from today. We've got a month left with you and then you get a shot at staying with that nobody bitch of a ma-" I surprisingly, find myself cutting my father off.

"He is NOT a nobody or a bitch. He's better than either of you will ever be combined."

"Oh, you've done it now, D/N. Now we're really gonna make the most of this month, aren't we, M/N?"

Shit.

They charge at me simultaneously, immediately tackling my already weak body to the ground so they can have their fun. My mother smirks as she walks out of the room. No. Not again. I nearly died last time. Dom's the only reason I lived last time and that was ages ago. Not this again.

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I limp back up to my room, quietly whimpering in pain with each step I take. I heard my parent's car leave; they left for the night. They do this a lot. I, painfully, make my way downstairs after hearing a knock on the door several minutes after their departure. I open the door, smiling slightly before grabbing the package from outside. This package is heavier than the last one! Suffering through the walk back up to my sad excuse of a bedroom was easier on me mentally, this time; I can patch some stuff up now. Upon reaching my room and sitting on my bed, I shake the box, smiling more upon hearing what sounded to be like multiple things inside once again. In the box was my typical first aid kit, a very stuffed envelope, and more little boxes. YES. I love this little family of mine. I prioritize cleaning and patching myself up first.

Once I do everything I can to fix myself up externally and clean myself up internally, I decide to dig into the rest of the contents of the package. I start with the envelope, reading everyone's letters and crying once again upon seeing another polaroid in the envelope with the letters I oh-so love to receive.