Rescued Into Love

Chapter Fifteen

The next morning I find myself against the wall holding my knees to my face. I’m not even crying. I’m just siting here in blank space. No emotion besides guilt runs over my body.

The sound of the creaking door opens. My eyes don’t move in the direction of the sound. They can’t, they’re stuck. Footsteps walk in my direction. Its him.

“I’m  sorry.” I quickly say before I even see him.

As the words escape out of my mouth, I hear his footsteps come to a stop. I don’t know what to say or do now. My body doesn’t shift in any way. Nor does his. He just stands there. I can’t see it, but I feel the expression of shock and confusion on his face. His feet pick up again till he is in front of me. He gets on the mattress and crosses his legs, as we did in grade school, and sits in front of me. I avoid his green eyes and stare down at our feet. I can feel his eyes on me. I watch his hand move to my face and tilts my head up.

“Sorry?” He asks.

“I’m sorry.”

It stays quiet between us for a minute.

“Sorry about what?” He asks.

“I’m sorry for sending you away.”

His eyes widen.

“I shouldn’t have turned you in that day. I should have talked to you about whats going on with you and your life instead of turning you into the school. I’m sorry that my tattle tale sent you away from you home, family, and friends and handed you the name as the freak of the school.” My mind keeps coming up with more reasons to apologize, but his finger covers my lips.

“Hush child.” 

I stare into his eyes as mine start to tear up from the guilt I feel.

“It’s not your fault. Don’t blame yourself. Don’t beat yourself up. You did what you thought was right.”

“No. I was scared. I saw the blood and I ran out and told on you.”

“Bella. Calm down. It’s not your fault.”

“Yes it is, Marcus.”

“Bella. I could explain to you how it isn’t you fault.”

“Please do.” I pause for a moment. “Ever since you were taken away I’ve only felt guilt for it. I blamed myself every day for your absence and your pain. The way you stared at me in the halls all I felt was hatred. I am so deeply sorry for doing that to you.”

“Bella, listen to me. Its not your fault.” He pauses and glances away.

This time my hands guide him into my direction. In his green eyes I see the sorrow. With my eyes I beg for him to explain to me.

“Ever since I could remember my dad mentally and physically abused me. He’d call me a lot of things that as time went on I started to believe him. He’d use me as his punching bag whenever no one was home. When my mom would come home I’d be in my room crying from fear, pain, and lost of hope to ever be saved from him. My mom never knew. I’d tell her I fell at school. She never questioned it, but I feel as if she already knew the truth and was too afraid to do anything about it. Just like how I was. Don’t blame yourself.” He explains.