a little collection

7

with my hand in his, i walk with him to a frozen yogurt shop down the road, and i freeze when i see a familiar face. two, in fact.

it's my mom and dad, laughing and touching hands over coffee. i feel my chest tighten, and my father sees me, and fear immediately crosses his face. i storm over, despite my boyfriends calling for me to stop.

i give my father one look in the eye, before shoving him out of his chair, and punching him in the chest, the nose, his face. my mother tries to pull me off him, but i shake her off. i scream obscenities at him, and i see red and blue begin to come towards us. a large crowd has appeared around us, and i begin to cry, my punches becoming weaker.

i feel him pull me off, and policemen step out of the car. my hands shake hard, and i'm scared. i shut it all away by closing my eyes, whispering, "i'm not like him." over and over again.

"i'm not like him." i feel the cold metal handcuffs lock around my wrists, and i'm escorted to the car. my breath begins to quicken, and it's nighttime, and there's a crying little girl behind me, clutching a teddy bear.

"i'm not like him." i hear my boyfriend begging the cops to stop, his voice thick with tears as they put me in the car, pushing my head down. he's trying to explain why i did it, but they ignore him. i see a woman with a bruise on her clavicle, and she's scraped from where i pushed her.

"i'm not like him." my father stands, his nose bleeding and bruises forming around his eye and mouth. i open my eyes, and all i see is myself, and i ask for them to roll down the window.

i gesture for my boyfriend, and he rushes over. i whisper, "i'm just like him," beginning to sob as the car pulls away. he runs to his car, and he follows the cop car, and i feel alien, as if i'm another person in this car.

i close my eyes again, and memories of that night flash once again in my head, and come before me, clear as day. i want to scream, i want to cry, i want to be in his arms. i'm scared. i'm so scared. i don't want to be like him. i never want to be like him.

i place my head between my knees, trying to calm down. i imagine him rubbing my back, holding me in his arms. his arms, so safe and sound. the vision of the man who hurt my mom, and the fact that she's letting him in again, it flicked something in me. he shouldn't have been let out at all. he hurt me, my mom, everyone was hurt by him. he drank too much.

"hey, kid, are you okay?" a cop asks, as we park at the police station. i lift my head, and she's looking at me in concern, and i only nod.

i step out of the car, and his car is parked on the curb, and he's stepped out, following us. god, how has he stuck around this long?

they place me in the holding cell inside, next to a frail, pale boy with black hair and a girl with silver hair and freckles, looking as scared as i am.

"what're you in for?" she asks, and i look at her. she has her eyebrows raised, and her lips are turned down.

"i beat up a man, disturbance of peace, etcetera etcetera. you?" i answer. i wasn't about to spill my life out.

"i stole a toy for my little sister, and they caught me. how about you, boy?" she asks the boy on my right, and he responds with a surprisingly deep voice, "i was arrested for beating up my asshole of a dad, after shoving my little sister." he does a half smile, and chuckles slightly.

"well, we'll be here for a while, let's just-" she sits up suddenly, and i look over to see my boyfriend standing at the caged area, along with a policeman, who unlocks the cell door and opens it.

i leap up, and i rush into his arms, those safe and wonderful arms that always encase me in his warmth and his scent. he's whispering into my hair that it wasn't my fault, i'm not like him, and that he was going to help me.

i do need help. i need to get the help i need to overcome these panic attacks, and all of these flashbacks.

i'm not going to cry. i've cried too much today. i just want to go home and sleep. i realise that i'm exhausted, and he carries me to his car, and i'm murmuring, "thank you." over and over.

as he drives, i focus on the lights as they pass by, my head leaning on the cold glass. i can't see a single star, for they're covered in clouds. i do see a few snowflakes begin to fall, and i smile. i love watching snow fall.

when we return to his house, he lifts me up. i assure him that i can walk on my own, but he doesn't listen. he carries me into the house, and i nuzzle into him. i feel even more comfy as he sets me onto his bed, and i utter a faint thank you again.

"why do you keep saying thank you?" he whispers, tucking himself in next to me.

"because you've stayed. through my panic attacks, my break ups, even today, as i bludgeoned my own father and got arrested. why have you stayed with me through all of this?" i ask, falling away fast.

"because i love you, and i know you struggle with a lot. if i left you, then i wouldn't live with myself. you're the girl i need, and i won't let you go because of a mistake you made, even if he deserved it. goodnight, babe." he kisses me, and nuzzles into me.

he's right. i have made my mistakes, and even though my father deserved it, i shouldn't have done it so publicly, so open.

i'm just thankful for him. i'm thankful for everything he's done, and i want to stay forever in his arms.