Pessimist

12 - Food 𖤓

"So he sent you an email, is that right?"

"Yes, that's correct." I replied, fidgeting with the necklace around my neck. After our talk yesterday, Dean had managed to convince me to try and file a restraining order against Devon. While we didn't have a confession and the text messages weren't confirmed to be from him, Dean said that the email could potentially be enough evidence since it included a picture of me battered and bruised on our kitchen floor along with an email they could easily trace.

"Would you mind forwarding it to us at..." The operator rattled off an email I could reach her at and I proceeded to do as she says, my hands slightly shaking as I was once again, confronted with my past. Devon had connections, I had already known this much. Combining that with the amount of money he has, his power over me is terrifyingly more significant, however I wasn't just going to sit around waiting for his attack. I needed to establish a routine of reporting him to the police in case the restraining order didn't work, so they had a file in hand in case anything happened to me.

Dean was out getting groceries, needing to restock his fridge and I had finally called Alex earlier after I noticed her string of texts, letting her know I was alright. Because I had missed class all of last week, I was stuck on catching up with homework and new topics discussed, Dean telling me we had a quiz the next day for a case study we had discussed in class

"Alright Mrs. Adam, are you okay with coming down to the station for a medical examination?"

I paused, my breath becoming shaky and my hands gripped the edges of my skirt, fisting the material. I kept repeating the same chant in my head, praying it would process to my brain and calm myself down.

He can't hurt you anymore. He can't hurt you anymore. He can't hurt you anymore.

"Yeah, sure. Um...can I ask what goes down in an examination? Are you...will you be doing any specific tests?"

She confirmed, telling me because I filed for physical abuse and not rape, she wasn't required to do any tests down there. Rather, she was going to take pictures of my body along with a computed tomography (CT scan) in order to examine just how bad the injuries were. If I required it, she was going to send me to the doctors in order for further testing.

"Would you like to do a rape kit?" She asked, most likely wondering why I asked her about other tests and I declined, not needing one anyway. Thankfully, Devon never went that far, only resorting to physical, verbal, and emotional abuse for power.

With that information, we said our goodbyes and I hung up the phone, laying my forehead on my arm as I let out a long sigh.

I heard Dean enter and didn't bother looking up at him, trying to get used to the idea of having someone other than Dean or Alex see my body in such a deformed way. 

"Sophia?" His voice rang around his apartment. He walked over to the kitchen, setting the groceries down, washing his hands thoroughly before applying a soothing hand on my back. "Are you alright?"

"No," I muttered, lifting my head up as I turned and gave him a sad look. "They want me to come down to the station for a medical examination."

Dean sat down beside me, giving me his full attention. "You don't have to do it if you're not ready." He said softly.

"I know," I frowned. Tears welled in my eyes and I sighed in frustration. "Sorry, I'm being dramatic I don't even know why I'm crying."

"Hey," Dean called out. "Don't apologize for crying. This is a hard situation for you, alright? Take as much time as you need."

"I can't wait too long or else the evidence will be gone." My voice cracked.

He paused, his mouth downturning as his fists clenched before he released them, letting out a sigh. "I hate that your body is evidence. I hate that you have to do this at all."