Abused {ACM}

Chapter 3

Abby's POV

Losing yourself off from the rest of the world

Locking yourself in your mind

The memories haunt you

They linger behind your footsteps

Stalking you

The past is tapping you on the shoulders

But don't look back.

The night that everything changed

The moment when his fist struck out

And you crumpled to the floor

The night when you decided that home-

Your safe place

The place where you're loved most-

Wasn't home anymore.

I woke up and Austin's hand was still holding mine, our breaths mixing together, our noses almost touching. I just laid there and stared at the shadows his eyelashes were casting upon his cheekbones, and drank in the protected feeling he gave me.

I breathed in the scent of him, knowing that just his smell gave me comfort.

It felt good that someone else knew the secret now. It felt like a weight was lifted off of my heart, finally letting me breath a little.

For the first time in five years, I felt...loved.

I felt loved and protected and warm.

But that all ended too quickly when I heard the front door slam shut, and footsteps on the stairs.

Shit. My father was home. I quickly sat up, my head still a little foggy. I gently removed my hand from his, and his breathing faltered for a second. I froze. It went back to normal, and I started hiding him. I quickly covered Austin with blankets and pretended the bumps were pillows, and got my textbooks and scattered them around his body so it looked like I had been studying. I added pencils - anything to distract my father from the sleeping boy in my bed.

"Whatever you do, please don't wake up." I whispered.

My bedroom door flung open, and I flinched and spun around. My heart was pounding and my palms started sweating - just like they always did when I was around my father.

He was drunk.

That made it even worse.

He reeked of alcohol and his clothes were all wrinkled. It was disgusting.

He slurred some unintelligible words and stumbled, catching himself on my desk. I just stood there, watching him. Suddenly, my phone went off, its ring shrill and loud.

I jumped about five feet in the air and picked up my phone, planning to ignore the call.

Suddenly, it was slapped out of my hands and a fist connected with my face.

"Don't answer the phone when I'm trying to talk to you, girl." My father growled.

"I was going to ignore the call!" I protested, on the floor now.

Big mistake.

"Don't-talk-back-to-me!" He grunted, kicking my wounds back open.

Austin's POV

I woke up underneath pillows and blankets, and I could barely breathe. I heard whimpers and a deep voice, and loud thumps.

Still half-asleep, I tried to remember the contents of my dream. I couldn't remember anything, except a beautiful voice whispering, "Whatever you do, please don't wake up."

I woke up. I thought in my mind. I woke up to the cruel world that I live in - I'm not in dreamland anymore. Suddenly, all of the memories started rushing back into my head.

Finding Abby half-dead on the bathroom floor, bloody and crying.

Picking her up and carrying her to her room. She was so light I probably could have carried her for hours without getting tired. Note to self: Get her to eat more.

Realizing her dad had done this to her, and after she fell asleep I re-bandaged her wounds and wrapped her in my arms and fell asleep with her.

****************

My eyes flew open, and I quickly sat up just as I heard a door slam. I whipped the blanket off my face, and was surprised at the textbooks and pencils scattered around me.

I saw Abby on the floor, and realization dawned on me.

Those thumps and whimpers...

Why did I not come to my senses earlier?

My blood boiled and I clenched my fists, working my jaw.

I am such an idiot.

I promised her I would protect her, and look. Only a couple hours later and I sleep through her beating. I was so angry at myself I wanted to hit something.

But instead I just came over to Abby and took her in my arms, rocking her back and forth and checking her body for her new injuries.

"I'm so sorry." My voice broke as I ran my hands over her new cuts and bruises, tears threatening to spill out of my eyes.