A/N: Hello my loves, I know I've been incredibly inactive with writing and posting updates mainly due some writer's block and being relatively busy with school. However I haven't completely forgot about y'all so I'll try to bring more frequent updates. As always this chapter will contain triggering topics such as sexual assault, self harm, abuse, suicide, as well as mental illness you have been warned, otherwise enjoy.
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She'd dreaded Monday morning like the apocalypse, like her life would merely end, she sky would go black and the ground would cave in. No amount of scrubbing seemed to get her clean, her pale skin only now remained scratched and torn underneath the lavender sweater she wore with leggings that morning. She hadn't left her room she couldn't handle her father's words he spit like venom, she couldn't handle being out in the world outside of her sage green walls and books in which she consumed herself in upon her father's refusal to let her have her phone back even knowing that he'd be there today. Lucy though never the type to wish ill on anyone hoped that Pierson wrecked his shiny, or that he froze to death in New York upon being strained in the snow, maybe if he was dead it would undo all the scars that were carved in.
Her head pounded, brown eyes that once seemed so full of light mirrored a corpse's lifeless eyes that morning, unfortunately not even an attempted overdose two days prior got her out of attending school that day when her father's determination to present her as perfection over took a care for weather or not slowly she felt as though she were dying. The only part of all the is was looking forward to was seeing Tim whom in which her mother had walk in on with Lucy's head pressed against his chest were it had been evident that they'd spent the night like that. Had it been any of time she was sure that her mother would make hell look good in comparison to the punishments she would receive for having a boy in her bed, but instead her mom just looked at them, and spoken. "Lucy, your dad won't be back until noon make sure he's not here when he gets back." so instead she'd spent her time curled beneath her floral bedsheets counting each scar that covered her flesh, and reading the words on the pages of her books over and over again where it was safe, where she was hidden from the world in which she so desperately tried to escape.
The sun began peaking through the blinds, and she suddenly wished it was dark again, because just as she tried to shut her brown eyes that feeling of disgust overtook her, and as she stepped into the bathroom the few contents she still have remaining from the little she ate came up in her throat. It was a routine at this point, getting up puking, scrubbing her flesh off, and then spending the rest of the day in utter agony. The water in the shower was burning hot, the soap scrubbing her flesh until she bleed, why didn't she feel clean? Her skin covered in an invisible layer of filth she couldn't seem to remove no matter how many layers of vanilla and coconut body wash she scrubbed herself with, no matter how hot the water was it couldn't seem to burn off the dirt. Tears fell from her eyes without her even noticing, scrubbing as the images played on loop in her mind. His hands around her throat as he tore her dress, his filthy hands on her thighs, on parts of her that she never wanted Pierson's hands ever.
As every morning her shower was abruptly interrupted by her father yelling down the hall. "Lucy hurry up! I'm not trying to be late because of you." his condescending tone echoing through the walls of their house, however she had little interest in going to school as it was more less riding with her father as he lectures her about how stupid it was that she tried to kill herself, and question what everyone would think of him if they found out. Instead of responding she said nothing slowly shutting the water off looking down at her scraped up thighs. She merely slid on a clean pair of black leggings with her white cardigan covering the pale pink shirt underneath it. She looked tired even she could see that, anxiety building up faster then she could stop it, especially since her parents refusing her meds, as well as locking away so much as every cough drop in the safe in their bedroom just in case she tried it again, and unfortunately for Lucy she couldn't say for certain she wouldn't.
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𝒞𝓁𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓉𝓎'𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝒹ℯ𝒶𝓉𝒽 （𝒜 𝒸𝒽ℯ𝓃𝒻ℴ𝓇𝒹 𝒶𝓊）
Fanfiction𝑾𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒃𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒕 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒊...
