Abused - a Maddie Ziegler Dancemoms / Dance Moms Fanfiction

Chapter 22

Chapter 22
Josh's POV

We gave in and took her to a hospital.

The ladies loaded her onto a bed while she began stirring into consciousness. "Paige call Uncle Kenny, now." I demanded and followed Maddie's stretcher into a room with the doctors. They began to examine her and their eyes grew wide in astonishment at Maddie's scars. "We have police taking care of it," I said as Maddie tossed around and the nurses put her on a laughing gas to calm her down. I too was in bewilderment at the number of scars Maddie possessed, I saw her differently somehow.

"Josh..." She giggled in wonderment. "Yes Maddie?" I asked once the doctors left that she was weak from her beatings and should recover in a few hours with the pain medicine and food. "Wanna buy a large house with a purple rainbow?" She fiddled her hands around floppily. I assumed Maddie had been weakened by the gas and may have been overdosed, causing her looniness. "Maddie's you can't have purple rainbows," I laughed. "Whoopsies!" She giggled and I felt the urge to film this for vine.

Once Maddie wore of Uncle Kenny was sitting at the door, reading to be let in. "Can I see her now?" He asked me as I opened the door. "Just be careful, she's been through this her whole life," I whispered as Paige and I follower him to the edge of her bed.

"Hey Maddie," he said in his usually cheery disposition. "Yes?" She answered tentatively. I could tell she was very nervous about this. "Can I see a few of your injuries?" He asked as I stood up and assisted her to roll up her left sleeve to show her fracture hand the nurses wrapped. Then I helped her sit up so she could lift up her hospital gown and show him her stomach bruises. He examined a few more before nodding and letting her relax again.

"Who did this to you?" He asked seriously. Maddie paused and bit her lip. I assumed she was having second thoughts about her parents but cleared her throat and nodded. "My- My parents-- did," she sputtered slowly as Uncle Kenny wrote a few things down in his notebook.

"Does this happen often?" He questioned Maddie and she nodded slowly.

"How many scars and bruises do you think you have?" He asked craving knowledge. I felt awful hearing Maddie's details. "132 without the faded ones, when I was little I used to count scars instead of sheep."

"Can you describe the actions that occur during a beating?" Maddie glanced at me nervously and I took a seat next to Paige in the visiting chairs.

"There's a closet, in my room." I had seen the closet before, but never went inside. "But there's no clothing inside," she said and ended the sentence on a downbeat as if the conversation ended. "Instead there's- there's, rows and rows of devices and tools. Devices and tools of abuse. Harry, my step father grabs as many as he wants and lines them up neatly that morning. If I miss behave, he slaps me and punches my gut. Then he drags me to the dreaded shelf in the basement and picks up the tools one at a time. He whips me, cuts me, punches me, and hurts me in any possible way. My mother stands near by and contributes minimally. They hate me. She calls me names as the process goes on. She says I'm a murderer and no one will love me. Once I've been knocked unconscious or Harry's bored with the beating, he removes my left sock and takes a sharpie from the cupboard. As a reminder he writes a word across my foot's vacant arch. The same word each time. Trivial. When I was 6 and they first began abusing me, I had no prior knowledge of the word, but was too afraid to ask. When I turned 8 I looked it up to discover it was just how they saw me. Worthless. Trivial meant without any importance. The word has been traced so many times it never washes away. Once I wake the next day I decide whether it's safe enough to go to school and I cover my scars." She said bitterly as Uncle Kenny took notes. This was awful to hear. Too awful. I wanted to run and hide for some reason, I didn't want to feel Maddie's pain.

"Why would your mom call you a murderer?" The police chief asked, puzzled by her descriptions. "When I was 6, my younger sister died because I provoked her to cross the street and play the game I was playing, and she got hit by a car, I just wanted to play with her but she died and my mother grew a hatred towards me and began the abuse." Tears streamed down her face and I stepped forward to run to her, but Paige pulled me back. It took all the willpower I had not to fight Paige.

"Isn't that enough Uncle Kenny?" I spat angrily, Paige still holding me back. "Relax Josh, just a few more," he said calmly as Maddie's red puffy eyes found me as my heart ached to see her so vulnerable. "But she's-" "Josh," Maddie hushed me as I relaxed my tense body and Paige let go of me. "He's a little protective of you!" Uncle Kenny wink and I turned to Paige solemnly.

"Is it still illegal to tackle a cop?" I whispered under my breath. Paige snorted and nodded slowly as we turned back towards Maddie and our Uncle.

"Why would he write trivial on your foot though?" He asks as Maddie opened her mouth, but I reply first. "An artist always signs their artwork don't they?"

A/N: Book 1 is almost done, so this chapter has to get 30 votes and 10 comments!!!