The Secret Five #Wattys2016

Day 224-Hadley

         I forgive Trace, but it's difficult to just think about what could've happened if he did stab me in the arm or face. Also, I don't have a right to hate him for having the flashbacks...because I have them too. No one knows why I have PTSD or what caused me to get it. I have to tell them one day and it better be soon because when we get home, I may be in the hospital.

And I think the only person who would understand is Trace.

I lay on my bed and stared at the ceiling and how I hope to gain strength, burst through, and fly home. What I would do to be there right now. Instead, tears flood down my face, hit the pillow under my head, and soaked it.

Remembering is the only thing I don't like about PTSD. It will always be there, even if it isn't on your mind, the memory, the feelings, the pain will be in the back of your mind, itching to attack at any given time.

It was a month after Armin died. I was still dealing with his death and locking myself away in my room. My parents tried to get me out but it wasn't going to happen. I was too depressed to be going to our beach house in North Carolina. They decided to let me stay home, only if my grandparents will come check on me, and they also said I can have everyone over for a couple nights. The family would be gone for a week.

It was the second night I was alone, my grandparents just left for the night, and I started to drink some of the alcohol my parents had in the house. I wanted all of my emotions to be covered and I was going to make sure I got to that point.

Then I started to hear banging outside my window. I didn't think it was anything because my neighbors were always having parties, so, I thought it was one of their friends. Until, Brad, my boyfriend at the time, was standing in my bedroom doorway. He seemed angry and pissed at me. He called ten times during the day and I didn't answer one. I have been upset and dealing with my own stuff; talking to him wasn't going to happen. The others didn't really like him because he was older, way older than me. He graduated five years before us and was known as the player. I didn't see him like that, but at times I did by how rough and angry he could get.

"Brad?" I stuttered a bit. "What are you doing here?"

"Why didn't you answer my calls?" he yelled, his voice booming and loud, almost shaking my bedroom walls. "Answer me, Hadley!"

"I-I..."

"Shut it. I don't want to hear your lame excuses."

"Brad...please."

"NO!" he came into my room. I got up off my bed and stood there. "You are my girlfriend. You listen to me. I own you."

"You don't own me, Brad. We aren't married, we don't have a child together, we are just dating."

"I own you!" he screamed and pushed me into the wall and I fell to the floor. My back was killing me. It was hard to take a deep breath. Soon, Brad began kicking me in the stomach and sides and punched me in the face. I started to cry. "You listen to me. Answer my calls when I call you. Don't you dare think we breaking up either, because if we do, I will come after you and kill you."

"Brad, why?" I sobbed and whispered. "I'm sorry." He kicked me really hard in my ribs on my left side. I coughed and threw up a bit on my floor.

He soon picked me up off the ground, pulled out my desk chair, slammed my body into the seat, and tied me up. The rope was too tight and rubbing up against my wrists and ankles. He punched me in the face once more and I blacked out.