Obsession // Ashtray

7

TW: mentions of abuse, heavy manipulation, major family dysfunctionality

It had been exactly a week since anybody outside the Mckay family had heard anything about Nyah. Whenever you would ask the twin boy cousins they'd simply ignore you or walk away and if you even went to the extent of asking the college cousin he would promise to fight you if you didn't mind your business. No one knew the true reason for her disappearance but rumours began to spread like wildfire.

There were totally bizarre rumours like:

"Oh Nyah's disappearance? It's totally because she's pregnant. I mean c'mon, have you seen her body?"

or

"She died in the arms of her mafia boyfriend who was trying to protect her from a shoot-out."

And more practical rumours like:

"She probably caught the flu or gastro or, something like that but I don't really care."

and

"She dropped out of school surely. It makes sense because she always skipped anyway."

But the one people believed the most was:

"I heard Ashtray kidnapped her because she was loud. I mean it was the last place she went, maybe it was a hostage kind of vibe."

Maybe it was the fact that over the 6 days after Nyah's disappearance it had just been Fez doing business. No one had seen Ashtray but his reputation scared other teens enough not to make shit up about him. The truth is Ashtray was anxious, though he didn't know it. He would just feel fear and worry all day, picking at his fingers and bouncing his leg up and down involuntarily. He couldn't get Nyah out of his head, how the brown-eyed girl's eyes darkened and her face illuminated with stress. He had never seen Nyah so unlike herself. And that was the last memory he had of her before she vanished. The boy had called and texted her almost 38 times per day, praying that she was alright. He was hoping it was just another brutal grounding but deep down he knew it was far worse. He was convinced, he was bad karma because Noah was the first proper friend he had chosen to make and now she had disappeared.

Nyah's POV

The silence raged loudly around me as I lay on the bed staring at the ceiling. My body was sore, my head was noisy and my heart was relieved. I only left my room for food which in all honesty was pretty rare and to shower or use the bathroom. It was seven days ago that Chris called me and fucked my world. He told me he called the cops on my mum.

I didn't know how to feel.

This is my mum we're talking about. When Dad was still around everything was great, dad and I would go to my dance classes and we'd go ice skating together and mum and I would talk about our shared love for sketching, writing and designing clothes. It seemed so long ago. Me having a relationship with my mum I mean. Because when Dad died all hell broke loose. At first, it was yelling at me about little things like not doing all the dishes before going to bed. Then screaming at me for being a useless child. The third was leaving me alone for days or even weeks at a time, but I just went to the cousins'. It became really bad when she started putting out her cigarette butts on my inner thigh. I used to scream and then the pain became tolerable. So she amped it up again. Punching and beating me up didn't last too long because she got so exhausted from it so she started touring me with a knife. Never any stabbings but sometimes she would skin parts o my skin off. The night she found my weed stash she cut my arm to look like it was self-harm. The shower the next day was hard.

Even through all of that, I'm not mad. Not saying I'm happy about it either because I know I definitely didn't deserve it. But it's all I've ever known really. I'm relieved it's at least over for now. They have my mum in custody and I'm staying with my cousins until the investigation is done at least. To be honest, I think we all know they're going to offer to be my legal guardians when custody is up for question in court. McKay said that mum is going to be on the news soon and that's what I'm not ready for. To go out and see people look at me with pity or judgement, hell, I don't want them looking at me at all. I don't want to hear the "I'm so sorry, can I help with anything?" Because it's triggering to constantly be reminded that everyone will soon see all the scars you endured and the person who did it. "I know you're like... going through an identity crisi- no a life crisis... but can I borrow your charger?" And I sat up and smiled looking at thing 1 (Roy). I love that Roy didn't treat me different... ish. "Yeah loser, but like buy yourself one instead of all the fucking weed you take," and we both laugh whilst he takes it and leaves.