Decadent (JacobXEnoch)

XVII.

⚠️  Trigger Warning: Rape and Abuse ⚠️

ENOCH'S POV

Once I was done stitching up the wound on his stomach and giving him pain meds, I cuddled with him under my blankets.

Everyone was quiet when they saw the blood spilling and knew better than to get in my way.

Especially those two dumbass girls.

I kissed Jake's forehead and earned a pained sigh.

"What's going on in your head?"

"You don't want to know..."

"Yes I do." I ran my fingers through his hair unconsciously.

He frowned and looked at me. "You'll get scared."

"I like nightmares." I teased and earned a tiny smile.

It quickly vanished though.

I sighed. "Please?"

"I-" he hesitated. "I just keep thinking."

"About what?"

"About whether I deserved this..."

"..."

"Why didn't you let me die?"

"Why would I let the person I love die?"

"Why would a man try to kill his only son?"

"Depends. Religiously... Because he wanted to cleanse the world. In your case... Because your dad is too close minded."

"..."

"Your mom loves you though. If she didn't, she wouldn't have-"

"-She wasn't like that before." he cut me off and twitched slightly. "She used to let him hurt me. Whenever he got upset... He would go out and drink and then come home and beat me until he felt good."

Tears slowly pooled before spilling down his cheeks.

"..."

"He made me hate myself and believe that it was my fault. That I deserved to be tortured. That I deserved to be degraded."

My heart was in agony as I started to think back to my parents.

He was tortured and I was ignored.

He was forced to think he was worthless.

I knew I was worthless.

His mother could have helped him...

My mother acted like everything was a part of life and that I shouldn't complain...

His parents suffered no consequences...

I killed my parents.

I stiffened at the thought.

"Enoch?"

I blinked and panicked when I realized how blurry my eyes were.

"Hey- it's okay. Talk to me."

"N-No. This is about you. I want to help you."

He brushed away my tears before giving me a demanding look.

"We can help each other."

Tell me.

Please. Don't make me think about it. If you want to know... Find it yourself. I don't want to relive it.

Was it your parents?

...

A teenager sat in a large morgue that was decorated in dark ebony.