Ch.67 - Molly First, Denial Second

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I'm a whiny writer today who can't overcome writers block (plus Ive only a few more prewritten chapszzzzz uggghhhh). Anywhos. Enjoy!

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Never.

That's how much she wishes that her pain would not become Molly's pain.

Never.

She never wanted her sister to understand feeling disgusted by your own image, trying to rid of greasy hands that slid past your defences. That robbed her of her life, of her laughs, smiles and freedom. Because she's not free, not initially. It feels like you're barred inside your own body, trapped and secluded from everything you used to know.

How the worlds relation to you remains the same but your relation to the world shifts.

Painted with pain, of fears that haunt, taunt, and daunt your every step. Recalling's and remembering's of how it all went wrong (that one time) and proceeding onto how it could happen again with every opportunity that presents itself.

Robbed of your inner peace--outer peace. Your serenity and sanity. Self security where you once felt safe in your own skin and now it's just a thing that's been used once and that small chance of being recycled again.

It's trauma you experience that guts your heart, makes it bleed from spurs that never truly leave. You just learn to heal around them, over them and blanket them. It takes a long time, and that open wound while fresh does fester, a thing that only gets worse before it gets better.

It's triggers. Seeing their face in the beings of others, of hearing their voice on old YouTube videos, recalling the good times awaiting the bad. It's worrying that you'll go back to the place where they belong and seeing them, fearing that moment, of having their eyes rest on your once submissive form laying prone beneath them. Clothes that you wore that remind you of them, places you went with them, people you met together, of being caught alone and without protection. It's not even just day time fears, it's night time terrors too.

She never wanted Molly to understand that. To hear the fear in her voice, jittering and endless sobbing for reasons she doesn't understand. Can't understand why she's so tired, why it had to happen, why bad people exist and how they inflicted that behaviour onto you.

Charlotte wasn't there. She wasn't there to protect her. She failed her. She failed her one and only, her most amazing, most beautiful loved thing in the world. Something that's so pure, so full of life and laughter, and then like a whispered wind to a brightly lit candle, it's all just smoke dancing in the dark.

It's all if she would've, could've, should've's. She should have been there. She should have protected her younger sister like she was put on this earth to do.

She should have and she didn't. All the words she wants to say is she's sorry, she is so sorry, she understands, she hears you, she'll make you better, she'll be there--but she wasn't.

Instead she will have to do what she knows is the only honest thing she can do, the thing that works for both of them: distraction. Talks to her, soothes her with dumb jokes, being attentive and ask how she's feeling. Be everything for Molly that she needs. What Charlotte needed and Molly--in her own special way, returned.

And yet it still doesn't seem like she's doing enough, that it'll every be quite what her sister needs.

But the healing won't begin till they drive far far away, and that's not where Robert's steering.

Molly is very against going back, and she's scared. Shivering and wanting to go to her happy place and keep Charlotte away from it all too. Just wants to go to the river and search out frogs. That's what she said when Charlotte had asked what would make her feel better. A side step is Charlotte saying that herself and Molly should go collect some of her favourite things while Robert has a little chat with Uncle Don. But in all honesty she doesn't want either Robert or Molly coming inside. She doesn't want Molly anywhere near that disgusting pig of a human again. Or Robert getting into legal trouble when he's teetering on the edge of losing Ava.

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