His Fia

CHAPTER 11

TW: MENTIONS OF SEXUAL ABUSE
————————————————————————

"Tell me what he did to you," I whisper, knowing I'm going to regret my question, but also knowing that I need to know what happened to my Fia.

"I don't think you want to know what," she breathes out, her breath quickening ever so slightly.

I gently pick her up and place her in my lap, pulling the covers up as I lean back on the headboard, my arms wrapping tightly around my Fia.

"Fia I want to hear everything about you. Your interests, what makes you happy, what makes you sad. I want to know what he did to you which scares you so much. I want to know what happened, so I know how to help,"

She lets out a deep breath before shutting her eyes, not daring to look up at me as she begins speaking; "It started when I turned 10, it was as if turning that age flicked a switch. My Father started coming into my room every week, he would abuse me every time," her voice trails off, as if not wanting to go into detail, or even continue at all.

"This went on until I was about 15. That was when I started going to parties, I would dress up in clothing he would encourage and seem to like, but also slut-shame me for it. The abuse made me hyper-sexual so I would hook up with guys from school almost every weekend," her voice goes wobbly as she tells me about her high school days, my heart breaking for her.

"I created a reputation for myself," she whispers, "I was the school slut, and everyone knew it, even my Father," her voice is barely audible as her hand lightly fists my shirt. "This made the abuse worse, he started coming into my room multiple times a week, some weeks it was every night. He got more violent as I got older, it got to the point where he was sexually assaulting me on a regular basis," her voice breaks as she starts crying, her arms wrapping around me as she buries her face in my chest. "Ophelia I'm so sorry," I whisper, guilt flooding over me for making her talk about this.

"He told me if I told Mama he'd kill her," she sobs, "I was so scared that he would, because I knew he'd been rough with her before," her words become almost inaudible due to her cries.

I don't know what to say to help so I just hug her, running my hand up and down her back as I silently comfort her the only way I know how to.

"I told her anyway, when I was 17," Fia whispers, "When Mama was out one night, my father tried to rape me, I screamed and fought him off. He ended up giving up and leaving my room, that night when Mama came home I broke down in her arms and told her everything," her voice is so quiet I almost don't hear her, but I do. I listen to every word, each one more heartbreaking than the last.

"Mama divorced him the next day, she went to the top lawyer and got all the proceedings done as quickly as she could," she continues, "Then she tortured my father," she chuckles lightly, as if trying to make herself feel better.

She goes quiet and I can tell she's done talking, but I don't know what to say.

Tell her that then.

"I don't know what to say to make you feel better Fia, I feel like anything I say will be meaningless," I confess, hating myself for not thinking of something clever to say to comfort my Fia.

"It won't be meaningless, please say something," she says in a small voice, almost begging me to say something.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, "I'm so incredibly sorry Ophelia. You didn't deserve any of that, and I promise I will protect you from your Father every day until we kill him,"