twenty-two

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TW: This chapter contains graphic discussions of trauma, sexual and physical abuse and graphic depictions of physical violence.

I have been sitting on part of this scene for a while 😬

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I hadn't been able to get her to eat, I had offered to drive her anywhere she wanted. Miles out of the city if I had to just to know that she was eating, or at least mildly taking care of herself. But she told me it'd only be a waste of money, she couldn't keep it down. And by the way she was shaking I knew she probably wasn't exaggerating. I don't think she stopped until she fell asleep, trembling like she was in the middle of an ice storm almost. Hand clutching and stretching the fabric of my shirt from how tightly she held onto it.

I didn't know what kind of person Harley was. Was she violent towards everybody or just people she knew wouldn't hit back? How violent did she get? Did she just stick to her usual fists or did it move onto weapons? Should I get a gun? Should we even stay here? Fuck what did I need to do to take care of her? I let out a heavy sigh and ran my hands through my tangled up hair. Though I tried my hardest not to move. Not to rattle her any more than she was already rattled. I should've known better though, that any movement I made would startle her at this point.

"You can't sleep either, can you?" She questioned, muffled in the fabric of my shirt as I sighed and shook my head.

"I thought you were asleep." I added, running my hand down her back as I felt her face burrowing into my chest so much I almost felt like she was going to suffocate.

"I'm just good at faking it." She replied, wincing as she stretched her most likely tense muscles out before she rolled over onto her back with a sigh, long brown hair strung out over the pillows as she ran her hands down her face. And even in distress she still looked beautiful, still looked like she was trying her hardest to keep everything together. Even though I know she had to be struggling.

"Can you tell me more about her? Harley?" I asked, and immediately regretted it by the way she flinched at her name. Hands seeming to stretch out to find mine. As if saying it too many times would summon her, like she was Beetlejuice or Voldemort, either one. "Shhh, baby, I'm right here." I whispered, squeezing her tiny hand in mine. "I just need to know how to best protect you."

All of her breaths sounded shaky, like she was fighting not to cry in every single one, latching onto my hand like it was the only thing holding her up to the surface. "She likes... to play innocent alot. Like she's this little defenseless victim. Says and does horrible things and then conveniently forgets whenever you bring them up, you know? To this day she'll never actually say that she hit me, I was making it all up to make her out to be a worse person than she actually is. The bruises didn't lie though, or the injuries."

"She left bruises?" I whispered, trying to keep my voice as calm as possible as I brought my hand up to caress the side of her face. Being as gentle as possible though I still felt like every touch was too rough. Like I'd never be gentle enough for her, bruises lighting up on her cheek at my touch alone. A horrific hallucination.

"Massive ones, she squeezed my head between her legs so tight I thought it was gonna explode." A sob hitched in the back of her words, feeling her body turning into mine once more. Hands gripping my shirt as her sobs soaked into the fabric.

"Shhh, I've got you." I whispered against the shell of her ear as I heard another shuddering sob being muffled into my chest. "I won't let her hurt you anymore, baby, it's over, okay? It's all over."

"She's gonna come back." Hazel cried as her tear-soaked face tilted upwards to meet mine. And ever so slightly I let my hand lift to hold her chin in between my thumb and pointer finger, practically feeling the way her bottom lip trembled with each quivering breath.

sad, beautiful, tragic // j.r.bWhere stories live. Discover now