Someone Willing to Stay

I Can't Remember

     When I wake up, I'm alone in my bed. My head is pounding and I feel like I'm swimming through murky water.
I'm still wearing the dress, it's itching my skin uncontrollably but at least I know that no one took it off.
I don't know how I got home. I don't even remember leaving the party. The last thing I can think of is talking to Logan at the kitchen table. Maybe he drove me home.
     Without thinking, I strip from the dress, leaving me in my underwear and strapless bra. I feel disgusting and I need a shower.
When I look in the mirror, my face pales.
I keep track of every bruise. Of every scar, every scratch, every mark.
The purple bruises on my neck weren't there before. They weren't there before the party. And I can't remember how they got there. I know what they look like because Riley had gotten one in eighth grade during seven minutes in Heaven at her friend's pool party.
I recognize the three hickeys staining my skin.
Someone saw you. Someone kissed you. If Adam sees those, you won't live to see tomorrow.
I'm in trouble.
While I'm in the shower, I try to scrub the marks off of my skin. I'm rubbing the area so hard it turns blotchy and red, making the area even more noticeable.
I want it gone. I want it off.
     "You want to feel better right?"
     I stop moving, letting the water wash over me. My neck is throbbing. My skin itches all over.
     I can't remember how I got my first hickey. I can't remember who gave it to me. I'm used goods. No one is ever going to love someone who doesn't even remember their first. I'm disgusting.
   "Tonight, I finally get a taste."
      I can't remember.
     When I finally exit the shower and look in the mirror again, all I can see are the bruises on my neck. And they hurt. They hurt more than anything Adam has ever done to me.
     I throw on a hoodie and grey sweatpants, throwing myself in my bed and curling up in a ball.
     Riley and Claire have sent me multiple texts, talking about how they couldn't find me at the party last night, they don't know how I got home, and they're worried sick about me. They don't know if I'm dead or not.
     I don't respond.
     They left me. They ditched me at a party I didn't want to go to,
     "Have fun last night?"
     "I don't want to talk about it."
     Adam walks closer to the bad and I flinch on instinct, trying to disappear.
     "Really? You're gonna be a disrespectful little brat after breaking my rules? You think that's a good idea?" He snarls.
     He told me not to go. He told me it was a bad idea. And he was right. Adam is always right.
     I feel my eyes swell with tears as I sit up. I don't look at him. I draw my knees to my chest and rest my chin in between them.
     "What's your problem?" He asks.
     Adam is my brother. He's the only one who cares. And that's the only thing running through my mind as I break down in tears and start to sob uncontrollably.
     "Something happened," I blurt out through the tears, "and- and I don't kn-know - and I don't know what."
     The statement doesn't make sense.
     But he's sitting next to me on my bed, and he's confused, he doesn't know if he should be angry, he doesn't understand why I'm crying if he hasn't even hit me.
     "What are you talking about." For some reason, his voice is softer.
     "I don't know, I don't know, I can't- cant remember."
     I feel his arms wrap around me and I cry harder. The tears won't stop.
     It's not a big deal. Nothing even happened. It was my fault for agreeing to go to the party. Wearing the stupid dress. I deserved everything I got, and it was just a few hickeys. A lot of girls would kill for that.
     "Talk to me, Melanie." Adam whispers.
     I'm showing him the marks, and crying so much to a point where it's embarrassing. I'm telling him how I can't remember anything, how my head is murky and my thoughts are blurred.
     And he sits and listens.
     Of course he's listening. He loves you.
     He hurts me.
     You deserve to be punished. You're a murderer.
     "It's okay." It feels good to be receiving a hug from him. A loving embrace from the person that I admire the most.
     "Don't hate me." I whimper.
     "I don't hate you," he assured me, "I could never hate you. You learned your lesson by yourself, I told you not to go to the party. Now you'll listen to me, right?"
     "I promise."
     "No one except me will ever touch you again." He says.
      Adam will protect me. He cares.
     "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you." I whisper.
     "It won't happen again." He says for me. Because it isn't a question or request. It's an order.
     I'm not good at a lot of things. I'm not good with school. I'm not a fashionista like Riley. Or an eye catcher like Claire. But I can follow orders. I can listen.
     "And your friends just left you at the party?" Adam asks.
     I nod.
     "You shouldn't hang out with them anymore."
     I look at him, "What?"
     "They obviously don't care about you. No one could ever care for you like me. They're bad for you." He says.
     "They're my best friends. They didn't mean to leave me."
     "Oh come on," he rolls his eyes and stands up, "you think they actually care about you? They let you get drugged and didn't even drive you home after."
     "I can't stop talking to them."
     "I'm just looking out for you, Melanie. I don't want you to get hurt when you find out what they really think of you."
     I nod and look at my hands in my lap.
     I love Riley and Claire. They're the best friends that I needed after Mason left. They're the only people I have at school.
     "I'm going to the store, I'll be back later."
     I nod and lay back down.
     They care about me.
     I know it.

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Hey guys!!!! Sorry these chapters have been depressing and possibly triggering to anyone who has been sexually abused and/or in a manipulative/abusive relationship!
If this is happening or has happened to you, make sure to reach out to those you love.