Into The Fire [H.S.]

28

TRIGGER WARNING:
Mentions of childhood sexual abuse, including torture, molestation, and rape. Mentions of violence. Mental health, attempted suicide... It's just a trigger happy chapter.
Please remember, if you've struggled with any of this. You are not alone. You are loved. Your are worth living. The world is a better place with you in it.
This chapter is heavy.
Brace yourselves.
🦋💜

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I'm fucking terrified to have this conversation. Because I know once I tell him everything he will never be able to look at me the same way again. Once I tell him, he's going to be the one that isn't in the mood to touch me probably forever.

I'm angry that I have to tell him.

I stare down at him lying on the bed. Only in a white towel. He's so beautiful it physically hurts to look at him. 

"I don't remember the first time it happened." I start to pace. "I don't remember how it started. I remember being his special girl. I remember being his favorite. He liked my hair because it was long, and blonde. He used to tell me how much he liked my hair. I remember him being really angry when I took my dad's clippers to it. I was five." My hands start to shake. "I think that's when my mom figured it out. That he was touching me. He didn't always use his hands. Or his penis. Sometimes it was something else. He liked to lock me in the closet. Especially when I started telling him to stop. That it felt gross. That I didn't like it, and I didn't want to play doctor anymore. Because it hurt. He would get really mad when I would wet the bed. So he'd shove my face in it."

Bile rises up in my throat. "My mom married my dad to spite my grandfather. He never touched her. Not like he touched me. He just beat the shit out of her. When I was eight. My dad found out."

I can't look at him. Not now. "He was away from home a lot. Because he was in the military. He came home late one night. We hadn't been expecting him, and when he came in my room... I... I asked him if it was his turn. He didn't understand. Until I told him I wouldn't fight him as long as he promised not to use the glass bottle again." My knees are starting to knock together.

"I've never seen my dad that angry before. He made me sit down and tell him everything. Even though I was begging him not to. He made me tell him everything. And instead of calling the police, or taking me to the doctor... he called my grandfather. Asked him to come over." I take a deep breath. "I remember my dad hitting him, over, and over, and over. I remember being covered in blood. I remember my mom screaming. I remember my grandfather trying to hurt my dad. I remember grabbing a letter opener and stabbing it into my grandfather's neck. I remember the blue and red lights and them coming to take my dad away, and my grandfather to the hospital. My mom was brought in for questioning. I was brought in for questioning. While everything was being investigated I went to stay with Jai's family. I never told anyone why I would wake up screaming at night. Or why I didn't want to go home. They let my mom come and get me two weeks later. But she wasn't handling it well. She had some issues already because of what he did to her. I found her on the kitchen floor, bubbles coming out of her mouth a week after she brought me home. So I moved in with Jai's family permanently. My grandpa wasn't charged because he's got money, and power, and no one ever ran any kind of kit on me or examined me. So when I was 10 he petitioned to get me from Oma and Papa. I was there for fifteen days before he sent me back and waved his rights."