Brie Larson Imagines (Fem!reader)

Not Gonna Leave You (C.D)

A bit rushed, but it's been a while since I last posted something, I owed you one.

Warning! Mentions of parental abuse, do not read if it makes you uncomfortable!

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Carol was your best friend. Always been since Fresh Year. She was so quiet at first, so closed off but soon learned to trust you and be herself when around you. You got through high school together, through ups and downs. You knew everything about each other, but there was something you really couldn't get her to talk about and that was her family.

Every time you brought the subject up she would immediately tense and ignore any questions on the matter, changing the subject. After a few tries, you let it go, not wanting to push her into doing something she wasn't comfortable with.

You really loved her to no end and would do anything for her. But nothing prepared you for the first time you saw her sporting a black eye back in tenth grade.

"Oh my God!" you had exclaimed upon seeing her appearance

"Don't ask..." she had whined a little, not wanting to face the subject and starting to close off

"Carol what happened?"

"Door." she had simply replied, making you understand to end it there

From that moment on, every time she would appear to school with a new bruise, excuse after excuse was thrown at you.

"I fell down the stairs"

"Cut myself on accident while cooking"

"I broke my arm by falling from my bike"

The more excuses she told you, the less you believed her.

There were nights when she would call you, crying on the other side of the phone and telling you how much she needed you, that she was scared, that she missed you. On those phone calls you would hear a man screaming and banging on a door, shouting at her to open it, before the call ended, leaving you shaking with dread in your bones.

By 11th grade you knew how Carol got all those bruises and broken bones and decided to confront her about it, wanting her to admit it to you before you could warn the police.

"Carol. I'm going to ask you something but you have to be completely honest with me and not avoid the subject." you had told her one Saturday as you both laid on the couch, your small body pressed against hers as you looked up at her.

"Y/N..." she warned, already knowing what you were about to say but you stopped her.

"Carol, please. This has to stop. I've stood by and did nothing for too long. I need you to tell me te truth!"

"Y/N..."

"Does your father hit you?"

"I don't want to talk about it..." she said as she stood up, putting her shoes on, ready to leave and avoid the discussion but you grabbed her by the wrist

"Was he the one who broke your hand?" you continued, pointing to her bandaged hand

"Y/N, I don't want to talk about this. Please let me go..." she pleaded, desperate to get out.

"Does he do it when drunk or sober?"

"He doesn't do anything!" she shouted and ripped her wrist away from your grasp

"Do your brothers know about this?" you hated doing this to her but you needed her to tell someone, to get help

"They don't know anything because there is nothing to know!" she went to leave again but you grabbed her wrist again