painkillers. - H.S ✔

pushing away

Two days later
My throat was dry and my eyes were trying to blink away the tears that were filled with a broken heart and emotions I couldn't even place my finger on. The lady looked at me again and waited for an answer. She tapped her black pen on her clipboard waiting for a confession to spill out of my mouth. I knew Harry was waiting, he had been told to wait outside the room while I was being questioned. No matter how many times I'd begged him to leave, to go home and mind his own business, he wouldn't leave. He'd been in the same clothes for two days and had slept in the chair even if the doctors had offered him the couch in the waiting room.

My parents would like Harry. He cared, he didn't seem like someone who would hurt me, someone who would love meeting my family, who would dance with me even to a static radio station in a dark apartment. But I wasn't strong enough to leave. And I couldn't admit that to anyone but myself.

I clutched the armchair of the chair that Harry had sat and slept in for forty-eight hours waiting for me to finally feel okay again and tried to slow my breathing. I had always said that I was okay to my Mom and to my Dad. But I never once had to to someone that could actually help me to the full extent.

"Ma'am?" Her voice was soft and calming, I could listen to her concerned voice all day and night. It felt relaxing and it felt safe. But she was only trained to do so. She probably didn't even care.

"No, he didn't do anything. Not even by accident. You see, we love each other." She nodded and pressed the pen to her bottom lip while studying my facial expression.

"Okay. Can you explain the events of two days ago?" She raised her platinum blonde eyebrow, I nodded and tried to push the lies out as smooth as they could go.

"Well, I..,"

You're a liar. You're pathetic. You push away anyone who wants to help. You deserve what you get. You're a burden. You deserve to die.

"We were going out to get groceries and um...I stepped on the first step and my shoes were slippery on the bottoms so I fell. Trent called our neighbor, Harry." I had wondered to myself in the past two days, how Harry had found out about the fall. Had he heard me? Probably. That meant he cared. Right?

"That's what neighbors are for. Right?"

"What is your boyfriends full name and how old is he?" She changed the subject so easily that I thought maybe she didn't believe me. She had to believe me. Or I'd love everything.

"Trent Joseph Oliver, he's twenty-seven."
A lot of people thought that our age difference was the cause of the 'unhealthy and toxic relationship' but it never really mattered. To me, as long as you loved the person or was sure that they were a good match, age didn't matter. Unless it was illegal of course.

"Okay. I'll let you out, let Harry take you home. And be safe okay? If you have any problems, just call me." She stood up and brushed her blue uniform off. She handed me a card.

Officer Fiona March
(704) 673-980
Charlotte Police Department

I dug the card into my right pocket and continued on out the door. Harry stood up almost immediately and gave me a bright smile. I didn't see pity in the smile like I always did to others, I saw happiness and longing. Something I could never have.

"Let's go home, please." I brushed past him and mentally punished myself for pushing away someone else. But I had to. I just did.

-

American hotline for domestic abuse:1-800-799-SAFE (7233).

Website link for more information and numbers:
http://www.thehotline.org

Watch these:
https://youtu.be/WL3rfk2iFww
https://youtu.be/hhHdIhfK7LQ
https://youtu.be/5Z_zWIVRIWk