yellow [w.oleff]

seven.

(this might not entirely make sense but hopefully it will at the end. also trigger warning.)

I awoke startled. multiple gasps of breaths escaped my lips, inhaling fresh air. my cheeks were damp with tears and I was soaked in sweat and my cries.  my stomach and lungs felt like they were messily tied into a knot. dizzily, I sat up, turning to my left was finns shining digital alarm clock, which flashed 3:19 am.

It wasn't real, it wasn't real. I reassured myself. he's not here, he won't hurt you. ever again. I continued, clasping my hand to my chest, trying to concentrate on my breathing. then I burst into tears, even the thought of him made me upset and scared. scared out of my mind.

"It's not real" I choked through my cries aloud, repeating myself. then I heard a shuffling sound which made me stop in my tracks. another shuffle again. I lied down, nestling into my sleeping bag - until I heard a voice.

"erm, w-who's there?" it said groggily. the voice was raspy and I didn't recognise it.

I yelped and a bright light was switched on which I assumed was a torch. a head of messy curls sitting opposite me came into view. wyatt. he looked shocked and concerned.
"y/n" he said worriedly, crouching down beside me. he awkwardly slid his arm around my shoulders.

"you alright?" he spoke, so quietly it was like a whisper. I could hear the worry in him voice and I breathed heavily, my stomach was churning. it still wasn't right. nothing was ever going to be right.

"uh- could we go outside?" I choked.

my bare feet touched the freezing stone path to finns garden as soon as we set foot outside, sending shivers down my spine. I held Wyatts red hoodie closer to me, taking in the cold air. fresh air felt good.

"is there anything you want to tell me? or, um, well, you don't have to tell me, I'm not going to force you to" Wyatt blurtered out, as we sat on the stone steps.

"it's okay" I said calmly, which was odd. "I'll tell you. I guess you'll find out later anyway."

I gulped and began to tell him.

"when I was little, my home life wasn't the best. my parents would argue all the time, most nights my sister and I would hide upstairs and listen to their fights. my dad is a violent character, and my mother is weak. he, he would h-hit her. he would throw things at her, like vases. he often threw things at me too when he got even more angry. he would hit me too. he would slap me, and kick me, and punch me." I could feel a tear roll down my cheek and my voice started getting shaky. there was a stunned silence for a moment. a cold hand gripped mine; he squeezed it tightly as I began to carry on.

"he wouldn't stop. then he would take it out more on me than anyone. and it got really bad. and I'm not sure I want to tell you the rest, but, it got worse. way worse. eventually we ran away. as soon as mom got pregnant with Lucy, she wasn't having it anymore. she didn't want Lucy to go through what we did. we made a run for it one night, as soon as dad drunkenly and fell asleep on the sofa. we came here. we didn't know where else to go, and because finns family was the only ones who knew about what was really happening. I still have nightmares about it. about it all, everything. I can still remember it. so, so clearly." I said as fresh tears appeared on my cheeks. I rested my head on his chest and cried.

"y/n?"

"y-yes?"

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that." he said, softly stroking my hair. "You didn't deserve it. none of you did."

I nodded.

"but, if anything like this happens again whilst I'm here, just wake me up. I won't care. Id rather lose sleep so I know that you're okay. promise?"

"promise."