Forever Yours (MM)(COMPLETE)

Chapter Thirty One

Connor

This is the worst week ever. Well, not really. But it sucked. I've had a lot of bad thoughts, and memories that won't leave my mind.

Dad doesn't come into my bed at night anymore.

No, he makes me go to him. When I turned 10, he started making me go to him. Now I'm 13, and still feel like throwing up as I make my way down the hall. I stop in front of the door, and take a deep breath. I knock, and Dad's hoarse voice tells me to come in.

I do, because there's no point in prolonging it. Dad wants me. He gets me. I tried fighting it off, but then I got beat and touched, so.

Mom's sitting at her desk, a band around her arm as she shoots up some sort of a substance. She tosses her needles to the desk, and she stares at Dad.

"We don't have to do this tonight.." Mom says, and Dad grunts.

"You say that every night. You get off on it too. Connor come here"Dad growls out his order. My skin feels like it's covered in bugs. I slowly make my way across the room, until i'm standing in front of my dad.

I never really know what comes next. Just that my clothes come off, and I do whatever Dad says. It's easier, and quicker. I try to think about shows I like, or boys at school who are hot.

Like Ethan and Remi Williams.

I've always liked looking at them.

"Babe.. we don't need him" Mom whispers, as she tries to shuffle things away from me. I used to hold onto the fact that mom tries to take the attention off me. Until I realized it was because she was jealous.

She doesn't care what he does to me, and she enjoys it as much as he does. Maybe because they actually get along during? I don't know.

These nights I block it out, and once dad groans and says I did good, I high tail it out of there. I take a shower so hot the water scolds my skin. Sometimes I throw up, sometimes I just cry.

Tonight I need something more.

I didn't know it, but tonight would be the first of many.

Tonight was the first night I stuck a blade to my skin. I cried a lot, and I hated how I looked. I hoped and prayed that dad would too.

He never noticed.

—-

The razor snapped easily, and the blades popped out even nicer. But I couldn't do it. I couldn't hurt myself. I stared and stared at the blades and I tried. I really did, but I decided I was stronger than that. So I flushed the blades.

And climbed back into bed.

And cried.

A lot.

Now I'm curled up on my side, staring at the wall. Emma comes in, a sweet smile in place. "Connor honey it's Ethan.. He's worried. He just wants to hear you're okay"

I glance at Emma, then turn over to my other side. I don't want to talk to anyone. '

—

I've been staring at the wall for an hour. I woke up today feeling gross. Feeling like I did when I was 13, a year before my parents passed. But then I remember I'm not that little boy anymore. That my parents are gone, and can't hurt me. And even if they could, Ethan wouldn't let them lay a finger on me.

So I push myself out of bed, and I take a shower. I go to group, and eat breakfast. I take on an extra therapy session to talk out my feelings and I get some extra sleep. Then when I talk to Ethan the next day I'm refreshed.