Splintered Hearts

Setting the sides.

Sleep slowly slipped away from me as the morning arrived. Opening my eyes I could still feel the weight of hammering exhaustion from yesterday hitting me. I shifted in the bed, closer to the figure that laid beside me, wanting warmth, comfort and a little solace.

"Morning." The huskily voice greeted my ears causing warmth to spread throughout my body.

"Hey." I mumbled.

Zak shuffled and twisted until his face was opposite mine looking at me carefully. "We should probably talk about yesterday." He said.

I personally wanted to forget about it, just the idea made me want to cry, but with the amount I shed yesterday I didn't think I could cry anymore.

I simply nod, preparing myself for his change of mind.

"I don't know where to start. So I'll start with us. Robyn I love you, only you. I understand you've been through shit in your life but we need to work on us and our relationship than the constant war we fight. If you love me too then it needs to stop."

I lowered my eyes from his face, feeling like I was back at the orphanage awaiting the abuse. Yet again it's all my fault.

"I antagonised yesterday, but you need to control that temper. You don't need to fight me, for me or for my love. Sweetie I'm here, I'm right here with you."

"I can't help it." I manage to mutter out.

"I know, life has been a fucker to you, but we need to get on the right path."

I agree with a nod.

"In order for us to do that... You need to tell me what happened, that night at the orphanage."

My eyes shot to his, the idea terrified me into Zak thinking I was a monster. "I can't." I whispered.

"Try."

I looked up at the ceiling chewing the inside of my cheek.

"I need honesty Robyn."

"I'm too tired." I stalled trying to roll away but his hand pulled me back. Seeing the determined look I gave him a pleading look, that however went unnoticed.

"I hated the orphanage.. The smell of cleaner, chalk and ammonia from soiled bedsheets. I hated the constant crying and the pleas to go home. But the biggest hate was having to stand by and see child after child hit, slapped, punched even kicked. Sometimes as a punishment, most of the time for sport."

"Keep going." Zak's voice whispered.

"I started sneaking out at nights. I managed to do it a few times, the night where the hostage situation happened a St. Anne's Retreat with all those kids.. I was suppose to be one of them. But I lost myself."

"Go on." He urged.

"We were all in a mixed age dorm. They were so small Zak. They wanted their mommies and daddies, they didn't understand." I whispered.

I shook my head looking away from his chest, the memories were strong in my mind but they had also been locked away... Until now.

"The cane hurt, stung in fact. But the hose? It took your breath away. They wanted to hear you cry so that they could hit you again for crying. They were sadistic. Matron, she wouldn't stop with a little girl, she was crying so much and she just kept hitting and hitting and hitting her. I'll never rid of those cries. Not in here." I pointed to my head.