Adopted by Emma Watson.

t h i r t y

I forgot I should put warnings at the beginning of stuff, mentions of abuse. 

I don't know what happened, one minute i was at the party, the next minute I was helping Olivia. I didn't know what to do, I had a few drinks, and then, and then everything sort've went blurry. I can't remember what happened, she was outside having a hard time breathing, and I didn't know what to do. 

I didn't know what happened, because one minute she was fine and the next she was having a mental breakdown in front of the whole party. I had abandoned my date upstairs, Ruelle came to get me, and we were both outside helping her breath. Tons of stuff could've happened, she could've been drugged, we gulped at the thought that she might've- we couldn't think about it. 

But the next minute, I was on the ground, with some dude on top of me, and all I could taste was copper. It was like my mouth was full of pennies, but I knew that taste all too well. It was blood. My blood. After a few punches I stopped feeling it, I could hear it, and see it, but I couldn't feel it. I could've only guest that it was the dude responsible for whatever was wrong with Olivia. 

Because minutes later they were trying to get him off of me, and they couldn't. I felt tears stream down my face, I felt my chest go up and down, my hear rate quicken. I felt some of my ribs poking around, a few must've been bruised, maybe even broken. It felt as though I was living outside of my body, like I wasn't the one in it.

I felt like a stranger. I felt like something was wrong, and then the memories came flooding back. My dad, he used to do this, on my birthdays, he used to hit me. I must've forgotten because Emma's been so good to me. I just, I was sobbing now. I could feel all that pain I blocked out, I could feel it all. 

All the jokes I made to cover up, I could feel it. PTSD. That's what Mina told me once, that I might have it, I joked around about, saying it sounded cool. That there was nothing wrong with me, but it must've been on my record I had it. That had to be why Emma was so careful with me, or why when her boyfriend did that, she must've known about it. 

I could remember the endless nights I cried for my mom to come back, and he'd just remind me she wasn't. That it was my fault, that he was doing what he was doing because it was my fault. And I remember thinking, 'well, if it's my fault then maybe I deserve this.' It felt like hours had passed, and he was still at it, alternating between hands. 

A few guys pulled him off, and I can't remember how but I was in a car, driving back to Emma's house. I typed the code in to get inside, I grabbed at the counter to steady myself, trying my hardest not to make noise. I opened the fridge, I grabbed the water bottle. Everything hurt, it hurt to life up my hand, it hurt to breathe. I hurt to move, it hurt to think. But then the lights flicked on, and Olivia's mom was standing there, wine glass in hand. 

"Jesus, Charlotte," Olivia's mom gasped. 

"I-I-I just, some dude forced him- himself on to-to Olivia a-a-and I don't k-know w-what happened b-but I w-was on the ground the -n-n-next minute," I sobbed. "I'm s-sorry."

"What's going on Jen?" it was Ruelle mom next, they must've all been there. 

"I know- I know, it was-" Emma walked in, she first looked at the two women confused, and then she saw me, she dropped her glass. "Charlotte."

"I-I l-left Ol-Olivia a-a-and Rue-Ruelle a-a-at the party," I said, "C-c-can som-someone se-see if the-they are o-okay."

"Y-yeah," Ruelle's mom stammered. 

"You need to go to the hospital," Emma stated, tears forming in her eyes, "Charlotte."

"No. No I will be fine, t-this happened all the time when I was little, I just a few bruised ribs," I moved back. 

"No, Charlotte, you aren't a kid anymore," Emma said. Olivia's mom left to go get them, it was just Emma and I know. "God, Charlotte, you look like you were hit by a car."

"Something's wrong," I blurted out.

"What?"

"Something's wrong."

"Yeah, you got beat up," she urged.

"No, Emma some-somethings really wrong, that guy wasn't from our high school," I stated. "How long have you been home?"

"We just got here why?" 

"Somethings wrong."

"Yes, Charlotte, I knew you've been saying."

"Follow me, but stay behind me!" I grabbed her hand, moving slowly out of the kitchen, grabbing a kitchen knife on my way out. "Quiet, and don't make too much noise." We moved forward, we couldn't hear anything. I don't know what it was, but something was telling me that something was wrong. 

See I don't know what it was, but when I was little I used to do the same thing. But it was only when I finally searched the whole house, that I could be less tense. "Charlotte if you aren't going to go to the hospital, at least let me stitch these up for you," I could see her pleading, I allowed. 

Something was still wrong...

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little hint, maybe, something that starts with an f and not everybody has. do you guys want more stuff like this?