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Warnings:
-Panic attack + anger outburst (unintentional self harm)
-Brief mentions throwing up

Clay's POV

~ A Few Days Later ~

I had no clue what was happening back at home, but knew I lost myself more and more every day that passed. I was laying on a bed after being accepted to sell my body for money. They didn't seem to care much about my age, but I was close to turning eighteen either way.

After fifteen minutes of rest, another woman walked into the bedroom. She sat down next to me and smirked, just like every single one of these people did. They were filled with lust and just wanted my body, while honestly, I had been wishing for someone to just talk to me...

'What do you want?' I asked with a blunt voice, mostly because I didn't give a crap about neither of these people. I just wanted it to be over so I could get my money and be able to rest for a little, but rest wasn't really a thing here.

'Anything you can think of, honey,' she replied, her voice mature while she looked like she would be in her early twenties. 'Are you also into guys?'

I frowned and shook my head. 'I'm not, but you're not guy,' I said with an annoyed voice. 'Just hurry up, I don't have all day.'

'So sweet of you for recognising me as a woman,' she told me. 'But I was born a man, I haven't had genital surgery.'

I rolled away and shook my head. 'I fully respect trans people, but I really don't want to do it with... you get what I mean,' I stumbled, my chest tightening as I saw the friend of my father in front of me again.

I genuinely expected my trauma to be pushed away by escaping in this type of work, but it came back like a boomerang as soon as she mentioned having sex.

'That's transphobic, sweetheart,' she said with a loud sigh. 'Come on, lay down. I'll not make you regret this.'

'I said no, okay?' I yelled out. 'I don't give a shit if you call me transphobic or not, leave the room and never come back. I'm not into guys and don't want anything to do with male genitals, okay?'

'I'm not a guy, sweetheart,' she scoffed, an eye roll setting me off.

'LEAVE ME ALONE!' I screamed out, the flashbacks coming out for the first time in days. I had been feeling numb, or else I pushed it away, but I had never felt this way. I completely lost control and jumped up, repeatedly hitting her shoulder to get her from the bed.

She stood up after a while and left me alone in the room, while I started to go completely insane due to the emotions coming out. I started screaming and grabbed a pillow to scream in, but quickly threw it away and got so angry that I grabbed my shirt and started ripping it apart.

All my emotions suddenly came out and overruled me, making me scream uncontrollably. I began to hit my own body and fell down on my knees. I couldn't help myself and slammed the floor so hard that I heard my, already broken but numbed, fingers crack.

My door opened abruptly, my boss, who was pretty sweet, running in with wide open eyes. He knelt down next to me and put his hand below mine so I would stop injuring myself, carefully wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

'Clay, you're going to be okay, I promise,' he whispered, his voice soothing, but not soothing enough for me to stop screaming.

Eventually, my screams turned into loud and heartbreaking sobs, my body shaking so badly that I couldn't even move anymore. I had barely any air and eventually, nausea came up so intensely that within seconds, I threw up on the floor.

I had never felt this much anxiety and pain inside, so much that I would have been able to jump off a bridge or stab myself if I had the chance to. I was going insane, just as I thought nothing could get to me anymore.

'Clay, look at me,' my boss demanded, his hand under my chin. 'Talk to me, please.'

'M-my life is a m-m-mess,' I cried out, trying to hurt myself by pinching my arm. 'I w-want to d-d-die.'

I continued crying more and louder, eventually the stress got so much that I threw up again. My boss didn't look disgusted at all and wiped some hair out of my face, revealing a fading bruise. 'I want you to tell me about it, Clay. You're so stressed, you have to let it go.'

'I c-can't, I would b-be in j-j-jail. I c-can't be, n-no one will b-believe me and-.'

'I believe you, Clay. I will believe your story and make sure to help you get out of the hell you're living in right now. Even if you did something awful, I won't go to the police, because I've promised that.'

'I s-stabbed my dad, b-but it was s-self defence. No one w-will believe me, I'm j-just a mentally unstable p-psychopath according to t-them.'

He smiled sweetly and pulled me closer, making me feel a lot calmer because I knew that if he wouldn't leave me now, he wouldn't leave anymore for the rest of the story. 'And what made you get to that point?'

'He a-abused me for years, so often. He l-let me get raped, n-neglected me and made me lose all of my s-self worth. My brother is gay, and he found that o-out and beat him too. I stuck up for him, but he threatened me with a baseball bat and hit me with it in t-the face. I grabbed a k-knife and made him t-trip. He pulled me w-with him and I stabbed him b-by accident. I ran from h-home.'

'Oh, dear,' my boss stumbled. 'Clay, that was self defence, and an accident. You wouldn't have done such a thing if it wasn't for him making you trip.'

'But that's the t-thing,' I sobbed. 'I wanted to stab him, he told m-me I'm a waste of air, and a pussy, he m-made me so angry. I wanted to stab him, I wanted to k-kill him.'

'Honestly, I think that's a humanly response after everything he put you through. You don't want to kill random people, right?'

I heavily shook my head and wiped my tears away. 'Never.'

'That shows that you aren't a psychopath at all, Clay. You wanted to end your own pain, not your father's life. But you didn't see a way out and the only way out at that moment was to kill your father.'

'How do you know?' I whispered, my voice hoarse from screaming.

'Because I was abused as a kid,' he replied. 'But it's not about me, Clay. The only way to stop your pain is to go to the police, even though I know you're too scared to. You have to ask for help, or else he will never stop until it's too late.'

'I've just always h-hoped he would... start loving me the way he l-loved my brother. I have always wished for m-my mother to help me when he b-beat me... They didn't and I'm afraid sometimes it's m-my fault.'

'Clay, you have to ask for help, and accept help. I guess that's a note to myself too...'

'Why?' I asked as I saw the sudden pain in his eyes as well.

'I got addicted to sex, I've never opened up to a therapist but hid in a world of addiction instead. I regret that, but it's never too late to accept the help you need. It'll be hard, but you need it, Clay. You truly do.'

'I'm addicted to heroin and sex,' I admitted for the first time in my life. 'No one knows that. Thank you, though.'

'If you gather all the proof you can find, we will go to the police today, together.'

1373 words

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