Chapter Six// Moving on?

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FLASHBACK:

Later that afternoon that little girl ran home crying, bleeding from everywhere. She had a bruised knee, scrapped elbow. She had a bloody nose, cuts all over her face so deep she needed stitches. She wanted to go home and have her mom hug her and tell her everything was going to be alright. To tell her she loved her. 

When she had arrived home her mom was busy with her boyfriend, that little girl grabbed the sewing kit ran to the bathroom locking the door. At first it hurt she winced and sobbed even harder, it took two hours to stitch the wounds. That little girl laid on the bathroom floor crying, not because of the cuts and the beating. But because her mom would never tell her it was ok, her mom would never tell her she loved her. She was crying because she was hopeful that one day she would. 

That little girl didn't eat dinner that night instead she laid awake thinking about the ways to avoid the beating. Kids at school would stare at her, her teachers just though she was a clumsy kid. She wouldn't cry at school, she wouldn't cry in front of her mom. She would cry silently when she was alone. She barely slept.

She spent her childhood crying herself to sleep, fixing her wounds, sticking up for others even though no one would stick up for her. 

She spent her childhood taking the beating, when the boys would beat her she wouldn't cry or beg them to stop. That only made it worse she began figuring out ways to stop feeling the pain. 

When they would beat her, she would think of a world where her dad and mom cared for her. Where they loved her enough to not leave her alone. She spent that time thinking of how happy she would be if she just went home and her mom hugged her. 

She never asked for anything, she never asked for clothes, food. She didn't speak to her mother. She was alone, she was lost. She was drowning and no one reached down to help her. She was eight years old. 

On her ninth birthday, the school had rushed her to the hospital because she had a stomach bleed. She needed emergency surgery. Which later her mom would blame her and yell at her. 

She was alone. 

-----

I woke up in a cell my one arm chained to the wall while the other arm was chain to the other wall. 

The door shot open revealing three guards they grabbed me knocking me out. I woke up in the middle of Polis tied to a pool.

To my left there was a girl standing there, and then I saw Costia and Lexa walk out of the tower. Nia had this all planned out. She was going to torture me in front of everyone. Raven and Octavia and the rest of the sky people where there just watching me. 

Nia stepped towards me "I'm sorry it had to be this way. We don't know what you are capable of." she smirked at me. She had won. Here I was with a big ego, and a little heart, defeated. I had lost and I was taking this loss alone.

"Do what you must, I won't blame you." I didn't prepare myself for the pain. I needed to feel is so these childhood memories would go away. 

"Today I bring you here to show you what we do to people who think they are better than us. What we do to invaders." she looked back at me. She gestured for the guard to give her the hot iron rod. 

She placed it on my arm I wince, I refused to scream, or cry, or beg her to stop. Once she lifted it up and placed it on the other arm I winced once again. She lifted it up the cold hitting the wound making it feel a little bit better. 

Rather than use my powers I used my thoughts, I knew the powers would only get me so far until I started feeling it. And if I started feeling I'd feel it all and it'd kill me.

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