Me in a gang? No, I'm in a family

Chapter 42: Murder Money #2

Dahlia pov

You never really feel the pain until your mind processes it and your world finally turns upside down, and im sure if you ask anyone who has been abused they will always say that it never really does get better, they just learn to lie with the thoughts encasing their mind every day, pain doesn't care if you are with family or friends, it doesn't care that you might be happy for the first time in months or years, it doesn't care about you, and it never will.

its not like you can say 'hey pain fuck off' because I don't think It will listen to you. Maybe with time things will heal, but the scars remain for eternity, and they will always remain there, they will be the thing that hurts most. Its a reminder that, the thing you might be running from, is always going to follow you, whether you like it or not, you cant outrun your past, it's faster than you, stronger than you, and most definitely can be the thing that kills you in the end. Your past will always come back to haunt you. Whether you are ready for it or not.

I rarely spoke out about the pain that I gained when I was in Mantian, mainly because I know nobody would ever believe me, they'd ask why I didn't go to the police about it, or my social worker, but life then was full of secrets and people who just wanted money and drugs, barely anything has changed there anyway.

I haven't found out much since I've been back at the Hunters' HQ, and I spend most of my days in some sort of lockdown from the rest of the world, and while the Hunters work and take care of the mansion, I'm left dealing with the inner thoughts I hear when I'm alone once again, and can only put it into music, which is when my guitar comes in handy.

I cry and pour everything I have into this stupid guitar, that is until the strings break again and I have to spend murder money on my favourite object, sorry to my other favourite object, if you know what I mean.

My heart strings pull more than the guitar ones do though as I let all my pain and anger that has built up over the years finally resurfaces, which makes a pretty good song if I don't say so myself, but its almost too personal to even write down or record, I say almost because I still try and record it, but every time I cry over and over, the pain just practically gives me stomach ache as I finally manage to write it down, all the overwhelming senses of pain becomes abated, helping me move on from the agony and torment it has caused.

I can finally get back on my own track again, all I need now is to spend my murder money on some new clothes, ones that I actually look good in, and not these horrible ones Armstrong gave to me from one of the girls' old fashioned wardrobe, I feel like i should say to her, 'let me call my gran and she'll take em off your hands for you' cause damn, I didn't spend all my time in the closet to come out and be wearing these hags.

I spend the rest of my day sorting out eventful stuff, like arranging the kitchen drink glasses in colour, shape and size order, and then I move onto the cutlery and the plates, what every person wants to be doing, at least it's keeping my mind from being kidnapped by Mantian.