Trigger warning: mention of self-harm, suicide, and rape
Gemma Styles
If you told me a month ago that I'd be sitting on the couch in my brother's living room, I would've said you were delusional.
Especially if you also told me that he would remember me.
I was just sitting there, staring at him and unable to look away... his green eyes were the same, and despite the many bruises on his face and his bloody busted lip, he looked just the same as when he was little.
His expression was cryptic, though... he looked tired and angry, but also relieved.
Harry was so tall now, I forgot just how tall he'd gotten. He was strong and he looked so grown up that it was weird... the last time I saw him in that club a few years ago he looked much more carefree than today, but I didn't know what he'd gone through.
He probably went through some rough shit, I mean, he didn't remember me back then but he remembered me now. So that meant he remembered it all, and I knew how badly it hurt. It was hard to stop myself from crying, but I was just so drained of energy that I didn't do anything. I just kept looking at him, trying to organize my thoughts.
When I woke up in that bedroom, I freaked out. I had no idea where I was but I just knew I had another episode. Dissociation was a bitch, I hated the control my trauma had over me. I'd usually lose my memory and feel so dizzy afterwards, but today it was different.
I remembered one thing, which was my brother looking at me and saying my name, while I tried to calm myself down by whistling the one song that reminded me of him... of all we went through together.
I also remembered that I was sitting on the bathroom floor of Ash's house... I remembered gunshots... were we robbed? Was Harry supposed to stop by to see Ash and that's why he found me? I could only remember a few flashes and they went by too fast, my mind just couldn't manage to put them together and discern what was real or not.
Shit, I needed to call Ash.
I was sure Harry brought me here because he remembered who I really was, and I didn't blame him. But Ash was probably worried and I had to check on her. It wouldn't be the first time we were robbed, but this was the first time I had an episode so randomly... I remembered the panic and nothing else. Maybe they already called Ash and told her I was here? Maybe she was staying here too but she had to leave for a little bit? My brain hurt.
The last time I felt this much fear was back in the bunker... the day they took me away from my brother.
I always remembered him, I didn't know if it was a blessing or a curse that I didn't forget the way he did. Sometimes I wished I could've just forgotten everything... maybe it would hurt less.
But if Harry knew the truth now, then I was sure he was hurting too.
I spent so many years worried about him, and at one point I just wanted to accept that he was dead. I hated myself for it, but it was the only way I could try to move on.
The awful things that happened to me were painful enough, I hated that I had scars to remind me of them. Scars left by others and also some left by myself... let's just say things were never easy. But they felt easier when I met Ash.
I decided I wanted to find my brother about five years ago, I just wanted to know if he was alive or not once and for all... if he was also looking for me or not.
After trying to forget and move on, I realized I couldn't.
I got lucky when I was adopted though, it was actually a very nice family. I was one of the kids that managed to survive and go through the system, but I knew most of us never got out of the rooms after we were used and abused by whoever had paid for us.
