Chapter 20

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I sat in my new bedroom, staring down at my hands, and bouncing my leg up and down nervously. The anxiety and worry I was feeling became heavier as the day went on, thinking about the days events.

At the same time it also felt as if a weight was lifted off my shoulders, I could breathe somewhat again. Although that feeling didn't last for long because it would soon be replaced with guilt. Why did I feel guilty for telling them? My mom.

I know I shouldn't care, and I've said multiple times that I don't. Sometimes it's easier thinking it though, instead of living up to it. Especially when in that moment it matters.

A couple of hours ago Luke also said he wanted to talk to me more about this, privately. I guess he wasn't too comfortable talking about this either.

I couldn't believe I had cried in front of them. Something I swore I wouldn't do, something I promised myself I wouldn't do ever again. But I broke that promise and sobbed uncontrollably in front of them.

My stomach got a random burning urge, along with the feeling of utter sickness. I couldn't really tell if it was from nerves. I hastily jumped up, and ran towards the bathroom. I put my face over the toilet, as I emptied my guts. I felt someone holding onto my hair, pulling it back, while rubbing comforting circles on my back. It didn't help, it just hurt. I smacked their hands away and sat up again, wiping my face with a towel.

I could feel the tears in my eyes again, I hated throwing up. "It's okay.." Luke muttered, placing my head on his shoulder. I was reluctant but placed it there anyways, hopefully getting some sense of comfort out of it.

I pulled my knees up to my chest and closed my eyes, while resting my head on his shoulder. I was so, so, tired...

"Would you like to tell me what happened now?" He whispered, pulling hairs out of my face. I sighed, "Do I have to?" I asked. He only nodded his head as an answer.

"What did he do to you?" He questioned, looking down at my face. I wasn't sure where to begin, what he did 3 years ago? What he did last week? Or what he did only days before? "A lot." Was all I could say, bringing back these memories and reliving them just made my stomach hurt more.

"When did he do that to your stomach?" He started off, he was going to have to do the questioning. "A couple days ago." I replied, not meeting his eyes. He sighed, "Okay.." He stated. "And all those bruises on your arms?" He asked. "Some are old, they'll stay forever. Some are newer." I answered again coldly, thinking about how Zach would always have this control, and reminder he was in my life. A permanent scar on my heart and body.

"I see.." He stated, in deep thought. "Anything else you can say that might help me out a bit here?" He asked, "I know it's hard for you to think about all these things again, but I need to know." He informed me, looking and examining my face, probably trying to see if there were any scars or bruises there too I had just covered up. There was.

I took a deep breath and thought back to everything he had done to me, all the cruel hours of torturing and mind games he'd play. I dug my nails into my skin, to stop them from shaking.

"He'd lock me in the basement, sometimes tying me up to a chain and leaving me down there." I started off, closing my eyes, not daring to look at him. "He would rub salt onto my wounds afterwards, making everything sting." I cringed, my arms felt a tingling feeling now just thinking about it. "He'd whip me with his belt onto my back.." I stuttered, taking deep breaths, trying to control myself. "Cut me with glass, a knife, anything sharp and painful." I continued on. I could feel Luke tense up beside me, also taking deep breaths. Probably trying to control his anger.

"Punch me, kick me, slap me.." I thought aloud, though those weren't the worst of things. "Throw me across the room.." I remembered, breaking body parts when that had happened. "Down the stairs..." I rambled, my heart feeling as if it was breaking over and over again. "Starve me." I croaked, a tear slipping down my face as I remembered staying up late at nights with my stomach in pain. Not just from the beatings, but from the hunger. I'd go around stealing things from stores, anywhere I could find food.

"Pour hydrogen peroxide on a cut.." I sighed, it was similar to the salt one. "Choke me sometimes.." I admitted, feeling embarrassed as I kept continuing. The list went on and on filled with all the horrible things he'd do to me.

Luke wiped away the silent tears that were slowly sliding down my face, that I hadn't even noticed.

He cleared his throat, and turned to me, looking deep into my eyes. I braved staring back up at him. "Did he ever.." He cleared his throat again, his hands becoming sweaty. My heart beat quickened, as I thought about what he was going to ask. Out of everything Zach had ever done, this was the worst. "Did he ra-." I cut him off, by putting my hand over his mouth. I didn't like to hear the word, it disgusted me and I didn't like having to face the reality of it. I took my hand off, and looked to the ground again while slowly nodding my head.

He sucked in a big breath, and his muscles tightened. "He'd sell me off..." I took a deep breath, trying to gain composure. "He'd sell me off to his friends sometimes, trying to make extra money." I saw a tear slip down Luke's face, and onto his shirt. "Please don't cry." I croaked, I didn't want him crying over me. Over my pitiful life. I handed him the towel as he wiped off the tears on his face. He grabbed my hand and stood up, as I did too. He pulled me into a big hug, which I was not expecting. His hug was comforting, he didn't hug too tight, and he was careful with my arms and back.

He held on as though he never wanted to let go, as if he never wanted me to be hurt again. I put my head onto his chest and cried.

I cried for my mom changing into a women I didn't know, for leaving behind her life with me all for some low life who turned my life into a living hell. I cried for Zach, and all the pain he put me through. All of the bruises on my arms and legs and face, and all of the hickeys and cuts along my neck and stomach. I cried for all these boys who now had a burden on their life, and for the heartache and loss of their mother. For all the pain they must've went through before. And I cried for Luke, for putting all this stress and worry onto him now. I held onto him to show him I was here, and he wasn't alone either. And lastly I cried for me, for all the years I spent being bullied, kicked, and punched. For all the times I was too scared to stand up for myself, and for my mom. For all the times I had to keep a mask on my face, hiding all the real emotions I've kept up pent inside me for so long.

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