Four Makes One (Book 1)(Completed)

Chapter 7 - Nightmares

Frankie

The next few weeks go by in a blur. Between school, work and the guys, I don't have time to think about home. My nightmares have gotten worse. I've been waking up screaming in the middle of the night. A few of the girls have come running and knocking on my door because they thought I was being attacked or something.

I have tonight off so I tell the guys that I need to spend the evening alone. They don't like it, but give in to me. I'm sitting in another library, writing in my journal. It seems to be the only thing that helps. When I finish, I get my things together and walk out of the library and see Cameron waiting for me.

"Hi. What are you doing here?" I ask.

"We were worried about you and wanted to make sure that you are okay," he takes my backpack from me and grabs my hand, pulling me along. I instantly feel safe.

"I'm fine. I just had to work through a couple of things." I say evasively.

"You've been looking tired lately. Are you really okay?" He asks skeptically.

We start walking back to my dorm. I guess I need to trust them sometime, they've proven to me that I can.

"I have nightmares. I'm usually able to deal with them, but I've been so busy the past few weeks, that I haven't and it comes out at night while I'm sleep," I confide.

I feel his arm come around my waist as we walk. "What are the nightmares about?"

"Mostly about when I lived back home. It isn't my home anymore and never will be again." I tell him. I feel his arm tighten around my waist.

"Do you want to tell me about them?" He asks. I nod and he leads me to a coffee shop nearby. We walk inside and he leads me to a table. When the server comes by our table to take our order, Cameron is careful to order me a drink without caffeine and a drink for him.

When the server walks away, Cameron turns to me, "Have you eaten dinner?" I think for a second and realize that I haven't. I shake my head.

When the server brings our drinks, he orders my favorite salad. When she walks away, I take a sip of my drink. He sits back in his seat patiently waiting for me to start.

"When I was five years old, my mother and I were in a car accident. She was in a wheelchair afterwards for a year. My father blamed me because I was begging for an ice cream cone and pulled her arm trying to get her attention making the car swerve and wrap around the pole. My mother got in trouble for driving drunk and I remember my father looking in my face yelling, "It's your fault, you ugly, ungrateful, bitch!"

"From that day forward, they ignored me. When they did pay attention to me, they would hit me and call me names. When I was seven, my father locked me in a closet for three days. He didn't even let me out to go to the bathroom. They didn't feed me or anything. I was smart enough to take care of my business in a bucket that they forgot about in the closet."

"The only reason that I was let out of the closet was because the school called and asked if I was okay. The principal knew that I was being abused, but couldn't get me to admit it, so he insisted on coming over to bring my homework to me. It gave them an hour to pull me out of the closet, get me washed and into some new clothes that they keep just for when someone visited. My father had to dump the bucket of my waste because they didn't have time for me to clean myself and that up. They even fed me, so my stomach wouldn't growl when my principal was there."

I look at Cameron, his lips are tight and he looks pissed off. Maybe he doesn't want to be my friend anymore. "I'm sorry. I'll leave if you don't want me around anymore."

He seems to come back to the present, "Sweetie, I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at your parents for doing that to you." The server comes over with my salad and he talks to me about lighter things while I eat it. When I finish it, he requests that I continue.

"When the principal arrived, he immediately came to check me over. When he was satisfied that I was okay, he pulled me into another room without my parents and asked me what really happened. I told him the response that my parents made me memorize before he came over. He sighed and gave me my homework. On his way out, he told my parents that if there was so much as a scratch on me, he was going to call child protective services on them. He told them that he took pictures of me every single time that I came to school with a bruise and he would continue to have the school nurse to check my whole body every day for bruises. Then he left."

"That stopped the physical abuse, but it didn't stop the verbal abuse. My grade school principal followed me to middle school, so my parents knew that they couldn't hit me and they had to feed me and clothe me or they would go to jail, because the principal had evidence against them. That principal made sure that I had lunch everyday when I went to school. His wife made lunch for both of us for seven years and another two years for me after he died. She would bring it up to the high school for me until I turned sixteen. She made sure she talked to me for a few minutes everyday and checked me out to make sure that I didn't have any bruises."

"She ended up moving with her daughter to Florida, so I didn't see her anymore. You can imagine what happened when my parents found out. I wasn't able to go to school for a week, they beat me so bad. They had made a friend that was a doctor a while back and had him come over and treat me. They told him that I was beat up at school by a gang of girls. The doctor stitched me up and gave me some cream to fade the bruising and then came back to check on me before I could go back to school. I think he suspected that something wasn't right, but had no excuse to call anyone."

"After I healed, they told me that I had to get a job and pay rent or I couldn't live there anymore. I walked everywhere and had no money, so my job options were limited. I went down to the corner diner and begged them for a job and not only did they give me one, they kind of adopted me. Whenever things got too bad at home, they provided a place for me to stay. I had a key to the diner and a room on the second floor. They helped me to save enough money to become emancipated."

"My parents signed the papers gleefully and raised my rent. I ended up having to get a full-time job in addition to the serving job that I had. I was lucky enough to get a job at the library about six blocks away. My parents thought I just spent a lot of time there studying, but I was working eight hours a day. They would still beat me, but not as bad since I was giving them extra income and there were days when I would still have to escape them. I saved all of the money that I could and I was offered the scholarship to here, I was ecstatic. About four nights before I left, my father was demanding that I give him all of the tips that I made the night before at the diner and I refused. Later that evening, I was in the bathtub when he started banging on the door. He had sold me to some guy to have sex with. I dried off, put on my clothes and climbed out of the bathroom window as quickly as I could. I stayed away as long as I could, but I had to come home and pack so I could leave for here."

"Two things happened at once. The owner of the diner died, leaving me his brand new car in his will and my father caught me getting my things out of the house and beat the crap out of me and told me to never come back. I left the next day and I haven't looked back."

Cameron looks at me with such compassion, "I'm sorry that happened to you and I will swear to you right now, that I won't let another person hurt you." He reaches across and grabs my hand, squeezing it. It actually feels good to tell someone about it.

"Do you mind if I tell the guys about it?"

I shake my head. He kisses my hand and after paying the bill, leads me out of the café.

Cameron

I walk her to her dorm, but after the revelations of the evening, I can't let her spend the night alone. I have her go in and then sneak around the side and let me in. We go up to her room and she goes into the bathroom to put on her pajamas and get ready for bed. I text the guys before I strip down to my shorts and get into the bed. When she comes back, she turns off the light and climbs into her bed beside me. I pull her to me while putting my arms around her. I fall asleep thinking that I never want to let her go.