𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐊 ✷ gracie abrams

𝟬𝟬𝟴. ( abuse )

RISK
[ narrative ]

tw: mentions of abuse

you can skip if you want! it's not mandatory to read this chap!

DADDY ISSUES
❛❛ go ahead and cry, little girl.
nobody does it like you do. i
know how much it matters to
you. iknow that you got daddy issues . . ❜❜
⸻ the neighbourhood

ⁿᵃʳʳᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉ

Abuse.

Something Blair's experienced more times than she can count.

She feels weak. She thinks about how stupid she was to this day. She let her father control her continuously until she drove her own self to the brink of insanity. She let him both physically and emotionally destroy her entire point of existing until she was nothing but an exploited case of rotten girlhood that no one could repair if they tried until the world crumbled. It wasn't even the physical and sexual abuse that was the worst parts of him; it was the mind games he played on her. That was the worst of all.

The gaslighting and manipulation is what convinces the victims to stay and endure it all. They train you to protect yourself, ultimately changing every part of you until you no longer recognize yourself. You're a prisoner in your own home. There are limitations on where you can go, how long you stay out, who you're allowed to see, and God forbid you hang out with anyone without their supervision. Too scared to look nice in fear of accusations of being a slut. But you're going to leave the house looking like that? God, you're embarrassing, put some make-up on at least. But only wear it when I'm around, otherwise you're trying to get into someone's pants.

You're all dressed up, who are you looking nice for?

Do you want men to look at you like that? Do you want them to fuck you?

Please, sweetie, I get so worried that someone is going to come along and swoop my baby away from my arms.

You're out with your friend? I bet you're talking about how much you hate me. Why aren't you bringing me, what are you hiding?

A year before Blair's father's abuse began, there wouldn't be a single fucking person on this planet that could convince her she'd let herself get to that point. That she'd let a man hit her. That's what everyone always says, right? I'd never let a man hit me. You don't even realize that's what has happened until it's too late. You've already been pushed down the stairs and slapped across the face. There are already hand and fingerprint bruises marring your arms and neck. And you've already told yourself he won't ever do it again. That he's sorry. He's stressed. You were wrong. Bad, bad girl. Feel guilty for making him lay hands on you. You deserved that. Leave? He'll kill himself. No one will ever love you the way he does, and you love him, too. You don't want him to die. Even if he wants you to.

Blair tried to escape his binds. But it was impossible when everyone thought her father was a perfect little angel that would never hit a woman. Especially one whom is his own child, his supposed 'savior', correct? Apparent light in his darkness that gives him sparks to ignite, right? Right? Right? Bull-fucking-shit. That's the nonsense he manipulated everyone around him into believing, though. Even her own self fell for his little lies.

If there's anything you should know, it's that abusers don't only manipulate their victims, but they get off on making others believe that they're upstanding people. They trick them into thinking that they would never hurt a fly, so when accusations come to the surface, they're considered outrageous.

Now as Blair stands outside of the perpetrator's house, panic suddenly fills her body, her throat closing up as a lump grows, knawing at her vocals that are still sore from the pull of her sobs in the shower last night. pathetic. She's pathetic. Still letting him bother her even after all of this time.

"Blair!" she hears him shout.

Shit.

notes: very short chapter