The sinner

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Alvin

As I feel the familiar shoot of cold pain in my midriff I shrink. His touch against the bruise made me flinch and now he's hurting me. My body sacks and I make myself small on the floor. I try to find that dark place in my mind where I can go to disconnect. It has let me endure beatings before and I need it to make this feel better. 

Because Rory means something. He isn't like... dad. He's not doing this because he hates me. That is important and at the same time I want it to not matter. I need to make this feel better. 

In a frosen frenzy I look for those familiar shadows, that deep hole of apathy. I delve deeper and deeper until a sea of heavy veils separates me from my body. A soft touch yanks me right back. 

Rory's eyes are holding my stare like a pair of hands holding a newborn kitten. They are bottomless windows of worry and caring. His hand smoothes over my arm leaving a warmth that I don't know if I've ever felt. 

I have to force my eyes to leave his hold. The intense affection has me in pieces. I swat his hands away but he carefully holds me, making sure I don't fall down. 

"N-no... no, this-this isn't..." I mumble but I can't make sense of anything. Tears are dripping down my hateful cheeks and I'm sure there is nothing about me worth worrying about. If they can hurt me like this, I can't be worth anything. 

"Alvin?" he pleades, but it's nothing more than a breath. "Are you...? I'm so sorry. Please! ...please" he quakes while trying to hold me up. 

In that moment I break into so many pieces that I wouldn't even know how to start putting them back together. Maybe he does care, maybe he doesn't, but I can't hold on anymore. Whatever happens I don't have the strenght to fight anymore. 

I fall limply into his arms and let him hold me in a strange and inexperienced embrace. He's warm. He smells like a boy. And even though nothing matter anymore I still like the way his arms tremble when he holds me. 

Like I'm fragile. Like it matters if he breaks me. 

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