The Bad and The Broken

Part 71

She grimaces as she gazes upon my scars.

My map leading to my pain.

My constant reminder.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I sheepishly ask, wanting to know what she was thinking.

"Oh," her cheeks flush, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay," I whisper.

I'd be curious, too. I totally understand.

I'd want to know how each and every one was formed. How anyone could do such a thing.

I could point to each one, and her exactly how it was created.

Scars made by glass are jagged– rough. Scars from knives have smooth edges. And scars by whips, well, they're puffy and short. Not as long as the others.

But those cover the majority of my body. Because once he started with the whip, he wouldn't stop until he was so tired he couldn't raise his arm anymore.

Evil. Pure evil.

She instructs me to hold the ice packs to my body while she wraps them inside the gauze.

The ice helps the bruising and the gauze adds support. Things I'm thankful for.

Once finished, I lay down on my bed. Jesse and I both have been wearing both Ryder's and his mom's bed clothes for the past week.

We've decided to stay away from our father's house for a while– just keep things on the down low.

Don't want to show up to pack and be surprise attacked.

Who knows, maybe he left town in fear of us going to the police. But maybe he didn't.

We'll give it some time. Until then, Ryder said I could wear his clothes, or possibly borrow some from Jenny and Becca.

It all sounds fine with me, other than the going back to school part.

I let out a sigh as I lay in bed and hold the ice packs on my body.

"Can I come in?" I voice asks as they knock on my door.

"Yeah, go ahead," I say softly.

Ryder comes through the door, scratching the back of his neck.

"Need any help?" He asks, "you know," he looks at what I'm doing for the first time, "holding.. ice packs?" He smiles sheepishly.

"Um, I mean, if you want to," I say confused.

He comes to the bed and places his hand over mine that was on my stomach.

"I'll hold this one."

I sit in silence as he starts talking again.

"Are you okay?" He asks, staring into my eyes.

"Yeah," I reply quickly.

I'm always okay. Even when I'm not, I'm okay. I can't be not okay.

"You know, it's okay if you're not," he says, as if reading my mind. He moves his other hand to caress mine.

"But I am," I look away at my feet.

"But you're not," he says flatly.

I roll my eyes.

"Ryder, I'm okay. End of discussion."

"Dawn, I know this isn't a good time to bring this up– I mean there's probably never a good time to bring this kind of topic up. But it is okay to not be okay. Everything he did to you, it's terrible. Horrible. And I know you've been hiding it for years for your brother, I understand. But for once you can relax, you can let your guard down, you can let all of it out. You can't just hide it and keep it pent up for forever."

I feel tears prick my eyes. I know he's right. And I want nothing more than to let it out. It's been clawing at my insides for year, desperately trying to escape. But I can't. I need to stay strong.

"I can't," I choke out. Fighting to keep them from falling.

"Why not?" He asks softly. I can feel him watching me.

"I need to stay strong," I admit to him, "I can't be weak."

I feel my lip start to quiver, and start yelling at myself to stop inside my head.

"You're safe now," he moves his hand to cup my cheek, ignoring my flinch, "you can let it out. Crying does make you weak. You don't have to be strong all of the time. You're human, no human can," he caresses my cheek with his thumb.

"But I can't," I drastically fight to keep my composure.

What is this boy doing to me?

"Dawn, let it out," he says, "how about you let me be strong for you. You can cry, scream, yell, anything. And I'll make sure you're okay when you're done. I won't tell anyone you did it either. It'll be our secret," I look into his eyes.

"You.. be strong for me?" I ask, not quite understanding the concept.

"Yes. Here," he puts his hand on my chest, over my heart, "I take all your strength, and I'll hold it until you want it back. And then you can be strong for yourself again when you feel better. I'll just take all your burdens for you until then," he whispers.

"You will?" I sniffle.

"Yes, Dawn. You need to let it out. I'm here for you now. You're safe. And, if it makes you feel better, we can act like it never happened. Just think of it as me borrowing– I don't know," he thinks for a moment, "your history notes until you need them again."

He gives a soft, reassuring smile.

I give some thought to this.

I can finally let everything out. All the bottled up pain and anger could be released. It could just.. go away for a little while. I know I can't keep it in for forever, but I was doing damn good at trying to.

But I'll feel weak. Father would've won again.

He took my youth, my childhood. He destroyed my mind, and my body. He broke my spirit, my fight. My attitude. My confidence.

There was once a time I fought back, I would mouth off no matter the beating I'd get afterwards. It gave me a sense of control in a situation where I had none. But then I just.. stopped. My fight was gone. I couldn't be bothered to fight back. It was pointless, it wouldn't change anything.

This is the one thing he can't take.

With that thought in mind, I decided to kindly reject his offer.

I will not cry. I refuse.

"I appreciate this, Ryder. I really do," I watch as all the hope in his eyes fade, and have to ignore the rings of guilt I felt, "but I don't think I can do that. At least not right now."

He purses his lips, and gives a small nod.

"Okay. If you change your mind, you know where my room is."

With that, he caresses my cheek one more time, and silently walks out the door.