little miss perfect

ch 4

My house feels different. It all feels different. I have been home for ten minutes and I haven't moved from the doorway. Kaylee and my parents have surrounded me, but I have yet to acknowledge them. I feel like I'm in a daze like this isn't happening it was all a dream.

My dad brings me to the couch, and I sit. Someone wraps a blanket around me, I'm not sure who. I see them talking. I just can't seem to hear them. You know in the movies when a bomb goes off and everything tunes out except the ringing? That's how I feel.

Suddenly the ringing stops, and my dad, is next to me on the couch tearing up and kissing my forehead saying "oh my poor little girl," "My baby," "How could I have let this happen?" My mother is weeping quietly to herself on the love seat across from me. Kaylee is on the other side of me. She hasn't said anything, she's not crying, she looks blank. She looks how I feel.

I don't want them to feel like this over me. God I'm such a fucking burden. I take Kaylee's hand in mine, her eyes shoot to mine. I squeeze my hand three times. I, squeeze, love, squeeze, you, squeeze.

I want Logan. I shouldn't be feeling like that. I should be wanting Jake, or my family. But no. I just want him to be sitting next to me, I want to be in his bed again watching criminal minds together.

"Honey" my mom pulls me out of my thoughts. I look her direction. "I know you have had a long night and if you don't want to talk about any of this right now that is completely okay. I just want you to know that Martin will never, ever come near you again." I cringe at his name.

Martin Black. Martin Black, a man I've known my whole life. Martin Black, my dads friend. Martin Black, the man that came into my room last night. Martin Black, the man that raped me.

"I need Logan" the words come out of my mouth before I even register what I am saying.

"Okay honey, of course. Anything you need" my mom says frantically looking for her phone.
My dads hands are engulfing mine. He's being so gentle like if he holds them too tight I'll collapse into a million little pieces.

We sit like this for a moment until five minutes later Logan and his wet tousled black hair walks through my front door. Everyone looks at him. They all have this look in their eye that says "do something! fix her!"

His soft brown eyes meet mine. My mom clears her throat "let them have the room guys, let's give them some space."

They all make their way out of the foyer back into the real world. Where the air isn't so thick with sadness. Where it doesn't feel like speaking one word would cause an atomic reaction.

Logan sits criss cross apple sauce in front of me on the floor. He looks so small. "You haven't changed?" He eyes me still in his clothes from earlier. Its only been half an hour since he dropped me off, its not that strange that I am still wearing them. Truly I just don't think I have the balls to go into my room. After last night, the likeliness of me going in there anytime soon is slim to none. "I cant go in my room." His eyes are full of worry but his demeanor doesn't change.

Logan has changed since my brothers death. He used to be what I called a "sunshine boy" he hated when I called him that. He was always smiling, and bubbly, quite a difference between then and his current persona. Now he is dark, and brooding, like the moon. I would chase him and Luke around the yard just begging to play with them. In my eight year old head it had always confused me as to why they were so close and he and I weren't. There was only a year age gap between us, and the same age difference between him and Luke. My mother told me its because neither of them had a brother to play with, and so they used each other to fill that hole. But I could play pirates, or spies, or just anything they played as well as they could.

I suppose Logan had only changed on the outside, because between last night and today he has been nothing but soft, and kind, just like when we were little. "Dal" he says. I look to him, I must've zoned out because he is just staring up at me with his head tilt like a puppy. "Sorry," "Where did you go just then?" he asks. I smile softly. "I was thinking of when I used to call you sunshine boy," He drops his head back in laughter, a full grin slowly appears on his face. I haven't heard him laugh like that in a while. But I guess I haven't been around him much in the last two years since Luke's passing. "I hated when you called me that" he says still smiling. "I know" I admit.

"How are you doing?" He asks the air getting thick again. "Um, I could be doing better" I try to laugh, make a joke of my situation, but the laugh just sounds forced and fake. "Talk to me" I wish it were that easy but I suppose if I am going to talk he is the person to do it with. I couldn't muster up five words when my family was in here, but here he is and I'm comfortable.

I take a deep, shaky breath and start, "I hate that my family is treating me like a puppy, like one of the dogs at the pound that has a missing leg or something, that nobody wants." He is staring so intensely at me, like every word coming out of my mouth is spewing at him and he is making sure he catches them all. I keep going, "I want to tell Jake, I want to, but its like when I try talking to anyone that's not you a big lump forms in my throat and I cant speak."

"And my moms a therapist for fucks sake. Its her job to hear, and listen and not judge, and to help. But I also know of trauma bonds, and who knows maybe my voice and overall being is wired to you now. And I'm not saying that's a bad thing because you have been so helpful with everything, all of it. But its just hard, you're practically a stranger but my body can't seem to let you go. And I am so so sorry for that, because I know you have your own life, and I shouldn't be keeping you in mine. Its just fuck I don't know." He opens his mouth to speak but I cut him off, continuing. I have kept this all bottled up all day and now my words are flowing so fast that they cant seem to stop.

"Quite honestly, I feel disgusting" I stand, he stays. "I feel gross and used, I just want to wash it all away, every piece of him that was on me. I want it off. But in my head no matter how long I scrub I will never get the feeling of him off of me. His hands, his lips, his fucking dick" I am screaming and sobbing hysterically now. "I cant even go in my room. My place, its been mine for sixteen years, and now its his. Its all fucking his!" Logan stands. He grabs my hand and brings me upstairs. "Come on" he coos. I don't want to go up there, I cant. He notices my hesitancy, "I'm not taking you to your room okay, I'm starting you a bath."

He brings me to the hall bathroom. He turns the faucet. I sit on the closed toilet seat, it reminds me of last night, of him looking for my towels, and him being so careful with me. He looks at me, "I will be right back okay? Stay here." I stay. I close my eyes, I count my fingers, I count my breaths. I'm breathing, its a good sign. I stay like this for about five minutes, counting, over and over. He comes in with my shampoo and conditioner, my soap, and my towel. He stops the faucet. "I will be right downstairs if you need me" he states.

"Stay."

He shuts the door behind him and I start stripping his clothes off of me, he turns around. I dip my foot in the hot bath and it scolds me, but I like it. I like the burn. I sit with my knees to my stomach and my back towards him. He cant see anything, but he doesn't turn around. "You can look now," he turns to me and sits on the edge of the bath.

I take a washcloth and I scrub my skin raw, he notices and takes it from my hand. He rolls up his sleeves and puts more soap on the washcloth. He traces it down my back. "Dallas, please let me know if you need me to stop, the last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable." I don't speak, he keeps going. He lifts my arm being so gentle he scrubs and scrubs. I start to cry. Not a hysterical cry like down stairs, but a soft sob to myself. He kisses the top of my head, "I am so sorry" he says in a whisper.

When I'm done he goes to my room and grabs me my own clothes, I change and he takes me downstairs. He sits me on the couch and tells me he will be back then walks into the kitchen. I heard chatter but I ignore it. Kaylee walks in with a blanket and lays down next to me on the couch. I wrap my arm around her and fall asleep.