Saving Emery Clarke

S E T H · 1 2

E D I T E D : J U L Y  2 9 ,  2 0 1 7

warning: this chapter may be triggering for some readers. Read with caution.

•°•°•

She scared the fuck out of me, to be honest.

When she laid there, beaten. When she rubbed her skin raw, trying two wash away that bastard's touch. When she suddenly sat down, unmoving. When she asked me to tell her everything I knew about the recent events.

But most of all, when I realized I was falling for her. Emery, the girl with the green eyes, the girl with the scars. The girl who's stronger than she lets on.

As I lay now, recounting the whole story to her, I can't stop the feelings of remorse that I didn't get there sooner. I could've prevented all of this.

When I was done telling her everything I knew, she sat there quietly, her lips parted. "This is all my fault," she says, turning away from me, hiding her beautiful face.

"Don't think for one second that this is your fault, Emery Clarke. That douche bag is sick in the head, and he's going to jail for a long time. If anything, it's my fault. For not being there," I tell her, turning her gently back towards me. "Okay?"

Emery shakes her head, her eyes welling up again. "I'm the one who pissed my mom off, making her leave and get drunk. I'm the one who lead her to do that. So it really is my fault," she says, shaking with sobs.

"It's not you fault. Your mother made the decision to bring home that guy. You didn't have any say in the matter, so it's not your fault. Got it?" I say firmly, wiping away her tears. It damn near breaks my heart to see her like this.

She takes a deep breath and nods. "Not my fault. Not my fault," she repeats under her breath. "Not my fault."

"There you go. Not your fault," I encourage. Emery nods, letting it sink in.

"Thank you, Seth," she says quietly. She smiles a little, looking up at me with those damn eyes. Green was never my favorite color until I met her. Cheesy, I know. I swear, she will be the death of me.

"Anytime, love."

•°•°•

"Alright, Miss Clarke. You seem to be looking okay. We're going to prescribe you some pain killers, for your bruises. In the mean time, take it easy. Your mom is here to see you, by the way. I'll send her in," the nurse says, smiling at both of us before turning on her heel and leaving the room.

Emery turns to me, her eyes wide. "My mom. She's here. Oh my god," she breathes, starting to breath heavier. Her hands start to shake.

"Em! Calm down, it's okay. She just wants to make sure you're okay," I tell her, grabbing her hands. "Deep breaths. It's all okay."

"She's going to hit me!" Emery blurts out. I freeze.

"What?" I ask, her words running through my head on replay. "Hit you?"

Emery freezes too. "Um, no of course not. She's-she's going to hug me. I don't want to be hugged right now."

I know she was lying again. She's always lying to me.

I laugh bitterly. "I don't know if you get this, but I'm not going to run away of you tell me the truth sometimes. I'm having trouble keeping up with what's true and what isn't," I tell her.

"I want to tell you. I do. I'm just scared of what you'll do," Emery says, looking down at her hands. "I've never told anyone."

I sigh. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. You'll tell me when you're ready. Right?"

Emery nod. "Yeah. Of course."

Just then, a woman bursts into the room. She looks like the woman on the couch last night, with blonde hair and blue eyes. She looks almost nothing like Emery.

"Who the fuck are you?" She snaps.

"The guy who took care of your daughter after she was raped," I snap back, my eyes blazing. "Did you know about that?"

Emery's mom takes a step back, her expression shocked. "What?"

"Yeah. Raped. By the guy you brought home," I say. I know I probably shouldn't be so rude, but I can't help myself.

"Oh my god," she says, holding a hand to her chest.

I look over at Emery, who looks surprised. "Do you need to say something, Em?" I asks.

"I'm just surprised you're sober, mother," Emery says, her voice small. She shrinks into herself almost immediately, as if bracing herself.

"Oh Emery," the woman says, rushing towards her daughter. Emery lets out a short scream, holding her hands out as a shield. I step in front of Emery, holding my arm out to stop her mother. Her mom stops in her tracks, and Emery opens an eye hesitantly.

I frown at this. What was going on that I didn't know about?

"Why...why are you scared of me?" Emery's mom asks. I slowly move over so they can see each other.

Emery's eyes widen. "You don't know? At all?"

Emery's mom shakes her head, confused. "No."

Emery shakes her head in disbelief. "You didn't know that you beat me, every day? Since Dad and Everest died? For the past ten years?" Emery gestures to her arms and her legs, all of the scars.

Her mom nearly falls to the ground. "What? No I didn't-"

"You did. You beat me black and blue, then left for the bar. You would come home, beat me again, then run off to your room. Almost every day."

I stand there, listening to this conversation, my head spinning. Emery's been abused? For ten years?

"I'm so sorry baby, I did know. I must've been on blackout. I never knew I was beating you," her mother says, tears starting to fall.

"But you knew you had a drinking problem. And you did nothing," Emery says, her eyes starting to water.

Her mom looks ashamed. "It was the only way to forget."

"I didn't get that choice. Since I was seven, I was reminded everyday. Because I had to take care of you, making sure you were eating and showering. Because you were too selfish to think about me, you daughter," Emery says, her words starting to get heated.

"I'm sorry! You just looked so much like them and I couldn't handle it-"

"That's your excuse? That's your excuse! Because I looked like my father and my twin brother?" Emery yells. "That's why you nearly killed me, countless times?"

Her mom starts sobbing. "I'll do better, I promise! I'll throw it all away."

Emery stares, her eyes cold. I take this as my cue to jump in before Emery or her mother say something they might regret.

"Mrs. Clarke, let's go to the cafeteria and get some coffee, yeah?" I suggest. I turn to Emery. "Take a breather, Em. You need to calm down a little, you've been through a lot. I'll bring you a bowl of soup or something, okay?"

"I'm not hungry," Emery says. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"It's okay. And soup it is," I say, grinning cheekily.

•°•°•