because ↬ brooks twins. {slow updates}

visits »

"What do you mean?" Luke asked, with all confusion.

"Well, i kind of want to see how hes doing." i told him back.

"Well, i guess i can take you tomorrow." he was hesitant.

"Really?"

"If you really want to see him, then, yeah." he answered.

"Thank you Luke." I tell him and engulf him in a hug. His arms are wrapped tightly around my waist, mine around his neck. He mumbles a no problem and let's go.

I crawl into bed, him next to me and nuzzel into his neck.

~~~

The next day I'm filled all with nerves. What if he wants me to leave? What if he doesn't apologize? All these what if's and I'm not focused on the positives.

I'm dressed in some jeans and a north face considering its cold here in Melbourne. My hair is at its normal state: a slight wave yet straight.

The car ride there was never wrecking. Luke had to place a hand on my knee just to stop me from bouncing it up and down.

We arrived at the jail and walked inside. The lady at the front asked us what we were here for so we answered that we were visiting. We were asked to remove our coats and stuff then we're sent through a metal detector. Finally we were sent to see my dad.

The police man lead us into a room with telephones lined up and a big glass wall separating us from the other side.

My father finally walked through and went to sit down on the chair in front of us. I hesitantly picked up the telephone and brung it to my ear.

"Hi dad." was all I said. This will be the first time in about three years that i will have a civil conversation with my dad.

"Braelynn, words can not explain how sorry I am. It was the alcohol and I really hope you know that. I want to apologize for every stupid thing I have done to you. I'm going to hell and I know it. I'm so sorry." he blurted.

"I don't know if I can fully accept your apology but I know it was the alcohol. The only question I have is, why didn't you get help? There were times that you were somewhat sober and seeing all the broken bottles, all my bruises, why didn't reality smack you in the head saying, 'You're a fucked up mess and need to get help.'?" I questioned.

"Brae, I honestly don't know. I didn't realize it I guess. I'm honestly so mad myself and how I treated you and I really want you to know that. You don't have to accept it, I'm just informing you. But I am getting help now and I think I'm getting better. They put me in rehab and I've been in there for a couple months now. Just know that I still love you."

I stayed quiet, taking in what he just told me.

"Tell me." was all he said.

"What?"

"How did you take it? Tell me how you handled it." he spoke.

"I don't think you want to know." Luke butted in. I forgot he was here.

"It's fine Luke, I'll tell him." I sighed then continued. "Well first off you should know that I was also bullied at school. That made me insecure. How did I handle that? I made myself throw up. Then you, well, ya know. That made me angry at myself. How did I handle it? I took the pain out on myself. Whether it was cutting myself in many places, burning myself, or taking pills. I thought I was the problem so I took it out on myself."

"But you weren't the problem." he sighed.

"That's what I realized when I got away."

I can't believe right now I'm expressing everything to the man that abused me. It's crazy really. I look over to Luke. He's staring at nothing, clenching his fists. I can tell he aggravated.