forever don't last • mj

confessions | part two

Hello everyone! I'd just like to apologize for the long wait on this chapter.

But to clear up on any confusion you may have reading it, check out my 'Let's Chat!' book and the second chapter explains the dynamics of what's up ahead.

Trigger Warnings: ABUSE. Read at your own risk.
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I'm sitting at a picnic table, underneath a beautiful oak tree, awaiting Michael. I really needs to tell him about my father and I'd abusive relationship before I feel guilty and begin to isolate myself. I realize I tend to do that a lot when I feel guilty.

I sigh, feeling serene despite the encounter that I have yet to face.

I close my eyes, absorbing up the hot sun on my caramel skin. I'm at peace.

I don't know why students are cooped up inside all lunch break because this area is so beautiful.

I hear quiet footsteps, so I open my eyes and look in the direction where I hear the noise. I smile. It's Michael.

"Hey." He waves.

I pat the empty space next to me, offering him a seat. He sits down next to me. His movements are always so smooth.. and delicate.

I sigh. I close my eyes and feel the sun on my skin again. A comfortable silence lingers for a while.

"You don't have to tell me what's up if you're not ready yet. You know I'll understand." Michael say breaking the silence.

I keep my eyes closed and shake my head 'no'. "I want to tell you this, because I know you're very perceptive and that you'd worry if I didn't tell you, so I might as well anyways."

Michael is silent, so I take the initiative to speak.

"I know you probably saw me tense up around my father yesterday."

"I did."

"It's because he and I have.. a complicated relationship. It's unorthodox. Unhealthy."

At this point my eyes are open.

"What do you mean?"

I sigh. I feel the tears forming in my eyes. I didn't think it would be so hard to speak about this to somebody I trust with a good amount of my secrets and stories.

"Michael, ever since I turned fifteen years old, my father began to do.. things to me. Things that no father should do to their daughter." I say.

I look into Michael's eyes. He looks shocked. That shock then turns to anger.

"Are you fucking serious?! That fucking pig and scum you call a father has been— I don't even want to say the word. The sick bastard deserves to rot in a prison cell."

My eyes widen and my jaw is left ajar at Michael cursing. I've never heard anything this vulgar come from his mouth.

"I'm sorry." He says with apologetic eyes. "I didn't mean to scare or interrupt you."

"I remember the day it happened like it was yesterday..." I state, disregarding Michael's whole outburst.

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The Knowles residence
Sept. 24th, 2:17pm, 1963
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It was my birthday. The party had just ended and all of my friends had gone home. Mother was out back cleaning up confetti and streamers while I was in the living room throwing away gift wrapping paper.