Where The Wildflowers Grow

-2- Clover •~•

Sexual abuse warning. Not graphic, groping kissing

The next few hours I spend on cleaning father up. Mom had stayed until Sophia tried to come in. She took her to be with Carl so I could finish. I grab the bowl of water before heading out of the tent. I toss it out in the woods before going to grab some more.

"Clover," Shane says catching my eye. I look down. "I want to apologize if I scared you."

"You didn't."

  He pauses, the words of admitting the truth linger on my tongue. I grab the rag by his hand before grabbing his hand as well. I glance up seeing a confused look. "You scared mom but not me. Sophia didn't see," I explain.

I quickly clean his knuckles before grabbing a clean rag. I stand up facing away from him. "I'm not upset that you fought him. I'm upset you didn't stop."

"Clover-"

  I head back to the tent taking a seat on mine and Sophia's pallet. He had fallen asleep some time ago and I was taking the opportunity to keep to my thoughts. At some point Andrea and Amy return victorious from their fishing expedition but I don't leave then either. I know if he wakes up and no one is here...

   I grab moms compact mirror using it assist in cleaning up my face. There's a swollen part on my cheek and lip from where he hit me. My bottom lip is cut from my teeth, which is a decent gash. Right in my hair line is a cut from the rock it hit going down. That one is the most sensitive of all my injuries.

Good news I don't think I have a concussion, at least not a severe one.

However I can't get moms screams out of my head, the petrified look on her face. Didn't she know if Shane had kept going that we would be free? Did she care? Or is she so wrapped up in her fear that father has distorted reality for her?

He had mine that way for awhile. I had thought every parent was that way until I started school. Mom had started fussing over the bruised hand print on my arm, declaring I should wear a jacket. The school turned a blind eye just like everyone else at this camp. As long as my face was clear of all damages in the public, as long as I applied makeup in just the right spots or wore this zip up jacket all the time...

It became apart of who I am. This stupid black jacket I've had since the sixth grade. Everyone knew who it was under the hood, but no one really cared for what was under it. I never got to wear tank tops or blouses or dresses or skirts. It was always jeans, tshirt, and this hoodie.

I remember when we first met Lori and Shane. They were a couple cars behind us as we were stuck in traffic going to atlanta. Lori was clearly startled, a shy little Carl clinging to her leg. Shane however was trying to take charge. Father didn't like that nor did he like mom offering to feed Carl. He grabbed her arm harshly whispering about how we can't trust anyone. I thought it was ironic how the man thought he was the only person we should rely on.

We would be dead by now if it weren't for Shane. Him and Lori saw the bombs dropping, the city going up on smoke. Shane led us to safety, he's the one who took care of us. Father never did. His only concern was himself. How fast we could provide for him and his generosity.

If it weren't for mom and Sophia I would've ran away a long time ago. However, I know that I need to be here when Sophia starts to grow. I remember what it was like go through puberty and your body changing. Mine still is. What she isn't prepared for is how his attention will change. Odd little grabs and comments, enough to make me feel sick. I couldn't leave her to deal with that. If his attention is on me then it's not on her.

Sophia might be a scared little girl but she's so beautifully innocent. Even with the shouts of our father and seeing him hit mom and I, she's still a sweet kid. Seeing her with Carl gives me hope for her. Hope that one day we will be free from father and able to make our own real connections with people. Before this I couldn't have friends, friends ask too many questions, get too attached but now...