Charlotte's Scars

Chapter 29 - Charlotte

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Charlotte

Hours went by while I told Christian everything.

I started off with the easier stuff - my experience at Hillside House. I told him about the girls there and how they'd treated me. We talked about Mack and my uncertainty over her mental stability. Of course, after Christian heard about her, he was very adamant that I stayed away from her. I didn't blame him because I completely agreed.

When I brought up Rayden, Christian was less than enthusiastic. He was definitely not a fan after the way Rayden spoke to Karla, but he did appreciate the big brother type role Rayden was adopting. Christian was glad I had someone taking care of me, but he did mention a couple times how he wished it were someone else.

Although outwardly Christian was containing his anger well, I could tell how my experience with Hillside House was affecting him by the way his arms would flex or his body would go stiff. He would force a reassuring smile, but his eyes burned with intensity.

We were sitting together on the blanket. Christian held me in his arms offering me strength when I needed it.

I could feel his hold on me grow particularly stiff when I started to tell him about how I acquired my unwelcomed haircut. But even through all this, he still managed to stay poised and in control.

When I finished telling him everything that happened at Hillside House, I knew it was time to finally open up about what happened that horrible Monday morning.

Aside from my little outburst with the Hillside Girls, I hadn't talked to anyone about that morning. For so long, I wouldn't even allow myself to think about what happened with my parents. I tried hard to push those memories to the deepest, darkest depths of my mind, only to resurface in Nightmares. I didn't want to think about it - I didn't want to face my guilt.

I could already feel my eyes filling with tears as my vision grew blurry. I nuzzled into Christian's chest and his arms squeezed me reassuringly.

I closed my eyes tight against the tears but they still escaped and rolled down my cheeks. I took an unsteady breath and began to tell him what happened after I left his house that morning.

First, I just went over the details, but as I recited the events, I found myself delving deeper into my remorse. I told him how helpless and weak I felt watching my dad savagely attack my mom with the frying pan... and I could do nothing. I told him how terrified and confused I felt sitting on my kitchen floor staring down into my moms lifeless eyes.

I didn't leave out any details and the longer I talked about it, the more tears ran down my face. By the end, my words were barely coherent.

With a wavering voice, I finished, "I can't close my eyes without seeing her bloodied face looking up at me in accusation." I swallowed the lump in my throat, but still cried out in anguish, "It is all my fault!"

My body shook as a torrent of tears burst from my eyes - I couldn't breath. My mom was gone and it was my fault. I never should have gone to the house that day. I should have just left them alone - maybe, if the police caught them, they would've received the help they needed. If only I had-

"No Charlie," Christian's soft voice broke through my thoughts. "Please don't blame yourself. Death is something humans can't control. You did the best you could for your mom - and your dad. You loved them even in their brokenness - you loved them even when they didn't deserve it. What happen was horrible, but you are not to blame for it."

I wiped my face as my cries tapered off.

"At least she's not in pain any more. Drugs and alcohol can't hurt her where she is now."