Wanted

Wanted~5

The lights were off. The curtains were shut, and I was sitting up against the headboard with my knees pulled to my chest. I hadn't left this room all day, I hadn't left even when I knew Jake had left the house after Connor told him he wasn't aloud to come back. I hadn't eaten anything, even after Connor's four attempts to bring me food and make me eat. I still didn't leave when Connor sat on the edge of my bed for almost an hour, not doing anything except sitting with me in silence.

I felt my way under the covers and ran the tip of my index finger over the lines imprinted on my skin. The scars that made me feel whole. The scars, the burns, the lines, the gashes. The things that bring back the past.

I run my finger over the left side of my thigh, feeling the indented lines that I had made the first time I cut. I ran my fingers over the burn marks on my stomach, from where my dad had put his cigarette out on me for not doing the dishes in time.

I ran my fingers over the places that used to hold bruises. The bruises that my dad had given me after mom died. I ran my fingers over the past. The secrets, the drenched memories that made me want to peirce a bullet through my skull.

Glancing over at the red letters screaming on the nightstand, it read 3:37 am.

Connor had to be asleep, maybe I could make it to the bathroom without him waking up, like I had done a few times today. My bare arms revealed by my tank top had goose bumps running down them. And I could feel the air conditioner from under the thin sheets.

I slipped the sheet off of me and felt my way through the dark to the door. I put my ear against it. After hearing nothing, I opened it and shuffled my way to the bathroom across the hall. I refused to look at my reflection. I already knew I looked like a mess, I didn't need to see it. Tracking back to my room, I stopped outside Connor's door. I didn't hear anything, but there was light seeping under the door.

I pushed the door of the bed room I'd been staying in closed, and tracked back to the bed. I pushed my back against the headboard and brought my knees to my chest, stacking my arms on top of them.

Connor popped his head into my room and leaned against the door frame.

"Can't sleep?" he asked quietly, avoiding my eyes. I shook my head as I lowered it onto my crossed arms.

"Me neither." he muttered as he looked at the wall opposite of my direction. He tucked his hands into his jean pockets and looked at me for the first time since he opened the door.

I suddenly remembered the time my dad had come into my room while I was sleeping. His faint whistling woke me up and i saw him standing there against my door frame, hands tucked into his pockets, head cocked to the side, just like Connor. That was the night of my first beating. He was strongly intoxicated and he was upset from working conditions. He decided to go to the bar after work to have a couple drinks, which turned into multiple. He also decided to hit his daughter that night, one time tuned to three, and three turned to ten.

Connor was standing there still, same position, as the light from the hallways shined on me. I buried my head into my knees as i felt tears seek form my eyes, not wanting him to see the side of me that was broken and lost. Weak and tired.

My shoulders shook slightly as i cried softly, trying to make as little noise as possible. But i guess i failed at that.

"Hey, hey..." he said as he got closer to me. Images from that night had flooded in my mind as he out reached a hand. When I looked up I didn't see the same guy I had seen yesterday when I met him, I saw my dad.

I shifted as far into the other side of the bed as possible. My mouth kept muttering "No, no, please." In my head, all i could think about was that first night.

I wouldn't say I was scared, I stopped being scared years ago. But I couldn't keep myself away from the thought of Connor being another representation my father. Using me as a toy, playing me like I was stupid, and killing the strong, will powered, woman i used to be.

Connor sat down on the edge of the bed, watching me with an expression I couldn't decipher. He outreached his hand and placed it on my knee. I flinched and pressed my knees against my chest even tighter, if that was even possible. When i looked at Connor, all i could see was representation of the person my father had been all those years ago. And the thought of it scared me greatly.

"Hey," he said softly as he moved his thumb back and forth in an attempt to calm me. "It's okay."

"Please don't hurt me."

It was a force of habit to say this, I guess. Some things my father had done to me will forever affect my life. Saying this to Connor, was a side affect of what I used to say to him. And it is a part of me that will always be there; the part that begs for mercy even if there is none to be given.

"I would never think of hurting you. Not now, not when I take my last breath. And not after I have left this earth."

Looking up and seeing the sad expression on his face had killed me. It was hard to look at him in the eyes, knowing I'd be staring back into he pair that had reminded me of my father. That was something I would not be able to handle.

He leaned over and brought my head to his. He kissed my forehead and held me with an arm around my shoulders.

"Try and get some sleep, princess. In the morning, I'll still be here, that's a promise. " I nodded slowly and watched him get up and walk to my door. he shut it behind him and I waited until the light from under the door turn to darkness before crawling under the covers, closing my eyes, and awaiting the nightmare I knew i would have.

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Hey guys! Sorry it has been so long since i have updated. I've had a ton of shit going on recently and I've been attempting to handle it.

And as for everyone else, thank you guys for reading and PLEASE leave me feedback and comment your opinions and thoughts.

Love you guys.

xxx-A