It's Hard to Say "I Do" When I Don't (Jack's POV)

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Believe me, I do actually know what Emily is going through... We have more in common than I would have expected. I didn't know it'd be about these things, but at least we're talking about it, right? That's always a good thing. The days when you feel like you don't want to talk about things, that's when you have to. It feels good to get the things out and just feel free of that burden.

"Y-You do?" she asked me as I held her in my arms.

"O-Oh yeah," I responded.

"W-What happened t-to you? I-If I can a-ask?" she asked.

"W-Well, it's a long story, and frankly, it's disgusting," I said.

"I-I don't mind, as l-long as you d-don't," Emily said as she sat up on the bed more, then allowing me to wrap my arms around her again.

"Well, it was wh-when I was about fourteen. It was actually just a few months after my dad died. He died when I was thirteen. Ever since he passed, my mom took up drinking and that's when the hitting, slapping, kicking, and everything else with her started. I had never seen that side of my mom before, so naturally, it scared me. I'd lock myself in my room and literally sob in the corner. Normally, locking the door would keep her out and she'd give up, but one day, it didn't. Within minutes that day, she broke down my door. How, I don't know, but she did. I was sitting on my bed that day, crying like usual, but I had my razor in my hand. I had fresh cuts on my arm that I had done seconds before, and when my mom saw, she ran to me and grabbed the razor out of my hand, cutting my fingers in the process. I winced in pain instantly, but she didn't care. She never did, in my book. Once she had the razor, she grabbed my wrist, making me wince again, and then dragged in across my wrist. Why, I don't know, but she did it. She always did crazy ass things when she was drunk... This was by far the worst night of it all though. After she had done that a few times, she threw the razor on the floor and then pushed me on the bed. She started kissing me, and when I pulled away, she retorted with me not being her real son, which I wasn't, so it was ok. I knew it wasn't, so I kept fighting her, until she eventually grabbed my sheets and literally tied my arms and legs to my bed. Once she made sure I was all good and tied up, she pulled my pants down as much as they would go and, well, I'm sure the rest is self explanitory, just as yours was," I explained, crying honestly as much as Emily was when she explained her story. "That was the first night she ever violated me, but it certainly wasn't the last... I was afraid she would do it again tonight, so I pushed her off of me as hard as I could and I knocked her onto the tile flooring. When she struggled to get up, that's when I made my run for it and came here."

"O-Oh my g-god, Jack," Emily said, her mouth hung open wide.

"Y-Yeah," I said, crying harder.

"C-Come here," she said as she pulled me closer, allowing me to sob into her shoulder as I did for her.

We stayed that way for, geez, at least a good ten minutes before the both of us calmed down well enough to actually talk to one another without having to cry between each word. Even after we calmed down though, Emily didn't let me go, nor did I let her go. Truth be told, this is something I could get used to...

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