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Holly's POV
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My eyes burn when I blink, evidence that I haven't caught a wink of sleep all night in anticipation for today. I rub my eyes and check the time on my phone, hoping that ten am would only be an hour away at most. The screen reads back to me in a frustrating number.
6:04 am
Four flipping hours until JJ would be back from the gym. Four hours until he could drive me to the orphanage.
I flop back in bed and sigh, willing myself to go back to sleep for a bit. JJ's face when I had asked him to drive me to the orphanage the other day plays in my mind on repeat, his brows furrowed, his mouth a little open in shock. I can't blame him at all. He knows I'd rather jump into a pool of lemon juice with cuts all over me than go back to the place that established my early childhood trauma and abuse. I assured him that I was fine and that it had been three years ago and that I as over it. Part of that statement was true, but now that it's the morning of, my stomach twists itself into knots.
I'm eighteen now. Nothing can happen to me, and besides, the new woman seems really nice.
My mind tries to comfort me, but it's a bit difficult as I've never really found comfort within myself. It's always been a hug from JJ that makes me feel better, but he's out at the gym and I don't want him to worry about me anymore than he has. I need to show that I'm determined, and by that, I need to present a strong front. Plus, he's busy training for his fight, and his focus needs to be on that. Not on me.
I shut my eyes and turn to face the wall, bringing my duvet over my shoulders and up to my nose. The fresh smell of laundry detergent and the tender feeling of home washes over me, suddenly making me feel sick. I try to wipe the fear from my mind, but the trauma the orphanage gave me seems to have been given to me in bucketfuls enough to last me a lifetime and a half. My stomach flips and turns and I can feel last night's dinner threatening to make an appearance. I can't do this.
But you can
No, surely not.
You have to. Give those kids some hope
Little faces fill my mind and my heart and my heart glows through the pain. Being able to help kids and young teenagers with money, food, heating, and well, overall expenses, makes me feel powerful. I need to be the person I wish I had when I was ten, lonely and cold and pricked by the rejection of so many people. They need me, and for that, I know I have to be brave and push past the fear that holds me back.
I get out of bed, now looking at my phone.
7:20 am
I give up on the idea of sleep and instead, leave my warm duvet behind as I walk into my bathroom. I shut the door, lock it, and start the shower. I'm not supposed to lock my doors, and JJ would nag me about it if he found out, but luckily, he won't be back from the gym until nine-thirty. I know I shouldn't lock my doors because of emergency and safety reasons, but I can't help but think about the past. Flashbacks of me trying to get away from my father by locking myself in the bathroom when I was six cloud my mind and I flinch when a door in the hallway slams shut. Ella must be awake.
I hold my hand under the water and wait for it to run hot. Once the water starts to warm, I take off my pajamas and tie my hair up into a bun, wanting to keep it dry. I step into the shower, the steam encasing me like a welcoming hug. Keeping my hair away from the water, I move my body under the showerhead and close my eyes, welcoming the hot drops running down my face, chin, neck, and chest. I stay like that for a few minutes, humming a random song that has just worked itself into my mind amid the chaos. I lather myself in body wash and gently work around the areas that cause me most pain. After my sexual assault incident my own hands feel weird on my own skin, and although it's been a long time since the orphanage, the burn mark scars from the old owner still lay flat against me, prominent against the tanned skin on my side. It may not cause me physical pain, but the emotional pain still lingers despite the amount of time passed.
