Chapter Thirteen

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        *WARNING- SLIGHT TRIGGER* If you are the type of person who gets triggered by parents beating their kids and/or family, you might want to skip the first part. I know reading this stuff can sometimes.

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I was still in full sprint mode as I turned onto our street. I seen his vehicle and ran to his door, my nerves getting to me and my hands started to shake. I banged on it so loud, and so hard that I think my knuckles were going to bleed. Please answer. Please be okay.

"Louis!" I yelled, banging more and tears leaking my eyes. I didn't stop hitting the door repeatedly until I heard a lock click. I swear my heart fell into my stomach as the door creaked open slowly. Oh god, be okay.

"Marce, wh- what are you doing here?" He whimpered as the door was cracked a few inches. I looked down to the ground as I heard all the pain lacing his simple words. I failed him. I didn't protect him like I said I would. I let him come home to this.

"Let me see you, Louis." I whispered, terrified to see him.

"I-I don't-"

"Please baby? Let me see what he did." I pleaded. The door slid open and I gasped. His face was glued to his carpet but I could see the swelling. I trailed my eyes down more to see his side worse than it was. The bruises were so dark that they could almost be black if they got a shade darker. I stuck my shaking hand out to lift his face up slowly. His right eye was almost swollen shut with purple and green bruising lining it. His cheek was red and puffy and his lip was cut and still bleeding.

        One single tear trailed down his cheek and then he collapsed into my body. I didn't know what to say. I was supposed to be here for him. I needed to be and now he doesn't even look like himself anymore. He sobbed into my shirt, painful screams slipping from his lips as I rocked him with my body. I slid us onto the concreted porch, holding his shaking form as he let out the pain he kept in for way too long. I couldn't help but cry harder as he did because it was so terrifying. The way he looked, the way he sounded.

"I'm so sorry. God, I shouldn't have let you go home, Lou. I'm sorry, so, so, sorry." I mumbled into his hair.

"I c-cant anymore. I-I don't w-want to be h-here. It hurts. FUCK! T-take me away, please!" He sobbed out, begging.

"I'll do anything for you, I promise. Just, let me go get a wet cloth." I replied, leaving his crying body against the building. I ran inside quickly, grabbing a cloth and wetting it slightly. I kneeled in front of him and put it against his swollen lip. He winced and tried to move his head away. After a bit more dotting around, I placed it on the ground. I grabbed the back of his head carefully to make him look at me. "You're not staying here anymore. Don't even fight me on this because I am getting you out of here. I'm going to pack some of your things and some of your sisters’ things. Don't move, okay? I don't know how bad you are. Is he still here?" I asked, anger lacing my tone. If I see that bastard...

"No, but Marce,-"

"Don't." I replied, getting up and going to find their rooms. I grabbed whatever I could find and placed it into bags I found in each room. I put them all onto one arm, them weighing me down a bit, so I could help my boyfriend too. I placed my hand under his left arm to help him up. It was so hard to look into his eyes, the tears wouldn't stop and I couldn't see anything but pure sadness.

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