Informing You

Chapter Eight: Memories Best Left Forgotten

Anna was left with Arthur in the overly white room of the hospital. The heart monitor steady, often beeping faster each time she thought of telling him. He tightened his grip on her hand and smiled reassuringly.

"I was coming home from school and I decided to screw my mam over and take the alley she said not to." she paused, closing her eyes for a moment before continuing. "There was this bloke, and now that I've had the time to focus on him, I can say that he was brown on brown and about six foot four. Anyway, he pretty much cornered me."

"That's horrible! How bloody awful!" England exclaimed, shocked at the fact that she hadn't brought this up before. But then again, Anna never seemed to be one to make tragic or terrible things public. She appeared to favour hiding things from people, like it would change the way they thought of her.

"I'm not finished yet." Anna snapped, as he'd made the painful thought linger for longer, letting the memories grow stronger and more real in her head. Drawing her attention to the window, watching the fresh green leaves (that reminded her of Arthur's eyes) bustle around in the strong summer wind, she continued.

"I was a primary school kid then, 11 years old, barely four foot two. He just watched me for a bit as I walked faster, until he finally cut me off. I backed against a wall and looked around for someone, but no one was there. I was alone, with this man, no idea what he was going to do..." she wiped the tears from her face that she just noticed, and sniffed. "Going to do to me."

Arthur's expression became more distressed, more upset than ever before, really. He placed his hand gently on her stomach where he know the scars were and looked into her eyes, urging her to continue.

"He laughed a lot. And...he...was armed with a knife. He said he didn't want to rape me, he said he wanted to see what I was made of....what was inside of me." a shudder wracked her body and the country quickly pushed the hair from her face. "He stabbed me..." she moved his hand over the large scar on her ribcage, "Here first." she moved his hand over to the much larger scar that covered from below her ribs to her belly button, "Then here."

She took a deep breath and looked at his hand, his pale hand that was so large in comparison to hers. "He cut me open, he strangled me, and I thought I was going to die. Then there was a voice, the sound of a knife opening....it sounded like a bloody awful fight Artie....." she wiped her nose with the back of her hand and kept on. "It was Sam. She beat the guy off of me and saved me. I heard that when she couldn't find help, that she carried me two kilometers on her back until she did... Sam's my bloody hero..." she sniffed again. "I woke up in the hospital. I acted like I remembered everything...but honestly, I only remembered entering that alley. None of the fight or anything. I just kind of accepted the scars, blew 'em off."

Arthur reached over gently and pulled his fiancé into a hug, then began rocking side to side, "I'm sorry you had to go through that. But Anna, you need to tell me these things! If I'm supposed to be your husband, you need to trust me more."

"It's not that I don't trust you, Art." she sighed, "It's that...I don't trust myself. And crying like this, geez, it's...a weakness to me."

"Crying doesn't mean you're weak, it means you've been strong for too long."

"That quote says you've been on my Pinterest too long."

"Shut up, git."

"You first, wanker."

Sam walked back in with Alfred and a nurse as the two were arguing. "Awe! Couples bickering! Isn't it adorbs Alfie?" she laughed.

"I told him, you happy now?" Anna shot at her friend, all of the sass intended.