Phonophobia

|25|

Third Person

"The gunshots, the screams, the trashing, the breaking of glass, the abuse. Everything that happened before they killed themselves."

The silence that fell between them was the loudest Christian had ever heard. He watched goosebumps rise on her arm, disturbing the silky skin. He felt his own anger well up inside him, what kind of parents would do such thing in front of a ten year old?

"I was there, I watched it happen. All of it." She whispered softly, curving her body slightly as if she wanted the bed to open up as swallow her all.

With a one arm, Christian flipped her over so she was facing him. He wrapped his arms around her again, pulling her closer till her naked body was pressing into him. She nervously traced patterns on his chest as she went on.

"I-I wouldn't forget what happened, even after I was placed in a foster home. The sounds kept jerking me awake, reminding me exactly how it happened, like it was warning me not to forget." Her voice cracked but Christian didn't tell her to stop because he knew she wanted to say it. She had to.

And he was here for her.

"I found peace in staying in silence, isolating myself from the rest of the kids. I couldn't go to school, the kids were loud, the teachers were loud and eventually, all the foster kids thought I was a freak, that I was weird. Only my foster Mom, Julie, was there for me. She got me medications, took me to therapy, tried to make things better." Abigail smiled at the memory, silent tears creeping down her cheeks. But then she frowned and looked up at Christian.

"It would've been okay that way wouldn't it?" She asked him and without even waiting for an answer she continued. "But Leo started cheating on her, he was my foster dad. She said she wanted a divorce right away but Leo wasn't having any of it. When Julie wasn't backing down he started beating the kids to shut her up."

"What?" Christian interrupted for the first time. His icy orbs looked down at the beautiful woman in his arms.

Abigail looked away, ashamed of what hadn't been her fault.

"He said he wouldn't touch us again if she stopped demanding for a divorce. She stopped, but he didn't. He found it fun, like beating us was the only source of superiority he had. It was. He would get drunk after work and come home, say that we stole something from him and beat us up till we gave it back to him. Julie threatened to report him to the foster care system, the inspectors. He said he'd kill her and the kids before he allows them to take him away. I-I was a victim of abuse my whole life Payne, my real parents, my foster parent. I was abused for sixteen years, and then I got tired." Abigail sniffled.

My heels dug to the floor, refusing to uproot themselves to submit to him.

He tugged again and gave me a warning look but I shook my head vividly, pleading.

But I stumbled back when his free hand collided with my cheek, sending brits of blood spraying out of my mouth.

My body was moving again, the screams were getting louder. Just like they had been in my ears for the past sixteen years.

"Please don't take me there!" I screamed, my eyes shut and anxiety already taking over. "Please don't, I beg you!"

I opened my eyes, my breathing quick and body shaking. He was dragging me by my legs, I looked around for something, anything that would make him let go.