Found

Nine

I suggest listening to this song as you read this update.
Warning: Mentions of rape, panic(?) attack[PTSD](sorry if I screw it up), Mitchie's voice(love how this means something.)
I woke up alone, a little surprised. But I brushed it off. I was used to waking up alone.

You're nightmares probably scared him off. I mean, who the hell would spend the night with someone with nightmares. He wouldn't even get anything from you except disease. You know that you can't even have sex with anyone. Not with your-

"Oh, you're up." I looked over and saw Scott, blonde hair a sleepy mess, standing at my door way, his head peeking in as though he had been trying to sneak. "I bring offering." He nudged open the door and showed off a coffee cup.

I sat up in bed, wincing at the pain in my wrist. Finally up enough I could take my coffee, I reached for it, still slightly favoring my right arm. I had learned how to block out pain long ago. It was an adaption. Either you managed to function while in pain or something bad would happen. Sprained my ankle as LuLu one time, and I danced through the pain because I knew what would happen if I didn't pay up.

Silently, I slipped the offering, savoring the taste. It had been years since I had had Coffee last.

"How bad does it hurt?" Scott asked, still standing at the bottom of my bed.

"Not bad enough that it is a problem." Lie. It hurt so bad but I wouldn't admit it. It had been days and it still stung. But, pain like this was not new.

He nodded, then looked backwards momentarily. "Come with me." He waved towards me with his hand and smiled, blue eyes bright.

Cautiously, I slipped off the edge of my bed and followed him, Starbucks cup still in hand. He led me into the bathroom and then turned to smile at me. I stared at the mirror. Words were scribbled all over it. Right in the middle of it all was a crude human outline.

I looked closer. Inside of the outline were a whole bunch of crossed out words, such as 'Whore', 'Ugly', 'Fat', and 'Not worth it'.

Above each crossed out word was another word. 'Priceless', 'Beautiful', 'Caring', 'Worth everything In the world'. I felt tears begin to fall down my face.

Oh my god. You're such a fucking mess. Crying over a bunch of words. Especially since they crossed out the truth. Stupid, slut, bitch. Face it. They're lying to you. Those words inside are the truth. So quit crying. I can't believe you! Fucking die already. Someone wasted their time, and all because you are too unstable to even function correctly. Let me tell you something. You are nothing more than an ugly, scarred bitch, meant for nothing more than someone else's pleasure, meant to be silent.

I scrubbed viciously at my eyes, letting the voice influence me again. It always did. I looked away from the mirror, until I let my eyes wander to it again.

On the left side was a list. I counted. Ten. There were ten things on this list.

"'Ten things about you.'" I read, then looked straight to Scott's worried eyes.

"Keep reading." He coaxed.

"Okay..." I turned back.

1. Your hair. Brown, blonde, shaggy, kempt, doesn't matter. It is always so perfect.
2. Your eyes. I remembered you saying how they were an ugly Brown. I disagree. They are a beautiful mix of golds and Browns, all in your eyes, unique and lovely. Unlike any other pair out there. They belong only to you.
3. You are the most passionate person I have ever met. I've seen and heard about the the way you acted for others. I have been told about your passion for singing.
4. You are so selfless. I see the way you let other's wants come before your needs, heard from Tuesday about how you protected him.
5. Your smile. While I know I have never seen it, not truly, I have seen pictures. Pictures of a boy, eyes bright.