Abused and Unloved~

Chapter Twenty One

"... I guess she sort of.. blamed me? For my father leaving. So she started to— hurt me, and convinced my new step father to join in on the fun, and this went on for a while."

There were small gasps and cries of sympathy in the audience and it made me want to cower back into my shell.

"That must of been horrible. When did the abuse stop? As you got older?"

I lightly chortle shaking my head.

"That's not how it works, it doesn't just stop. I've learned that people don't just change."
"Alright. So why didn't you leave? You knew they were never going to change, why didn't you call the police? Why didn't you tell a school friend or an administrator?"

I sigh looking down at my hands. If I still had my ring I would have been twisting it tirelessly.

"I kept to myself in school. I let everyone believe I was shy so I wouldn't have to talk to anyone. I did it because I knew forming bonds would create hope for a different future, and my parents would destroy anything that risked getting them caught or letting me escape. Making friends and building relationships would only put those people in danger."

They collectively nod, leaning alarmingly close, engrossed in my story.

"I couldn't run away. I hadn't been allowed to get a job, no money, no other family, and obviously no other friends. Running away would be a death sentence. At least when I was getting abused I had a bed."
"And food."
"Occasionally."

I heard them all hum in more sympathy.

"And the police weren't an option, it meant they would get arrested and my sister and I would basically be orphans."
"Yes, but you would be safe."
"Well with parents like mine you're never truly safe, and besides that, a foster home brought the possibility of me and my sister being separated. This changes her life completely, new school, new home, no parents, and she wouldn't even have me by her side."

The audience stared intensely, I continuously rubbed my palms on my dress trying to wipe away the sweat I felt forming.

"You don't think she would understand?"
"I thought, why take the chance?"
"Your mother and stepfather never touched your sister. Why?"

I shrug moving hair out of my face growing slightly more comfortable.

"She was their clean slate. A baby is innocent, they haven't done anything wrong yet. I had, my mother swore I was the cause of her previous downfall. My existence drove away her mother and the boy she loved."

She nods, her eyes peeking over the glasses she wore making me feel queasy for some reason. She rubbed me the wrong way.

"But with you staying, with you keeping your sister in the dark about your parents, didn't that propose a possibility of them snapping and hurting you both? Then you would be in a worse situation— crazy people can transform in an instant."

I half smile shaking my head.

"My parents were not crazy. Crazy people have no control over their actions, they're sick. My mother knew exactly what she was doing with every scar she placed on my body. Someone crazy wouldn't be able to escape the justice system twice. Someone crazy wouldn't be able to successfully pull off a kidnapping in a house full of people twice. No, my mother was very intelligent and my stepfather was on for the ride."

It was difficult to refrain from continuously looking down at my hands.

"And as long as Kaylee stayed in the dark, and stayed quiet and innocent— as long as she continued to be their clean slate... she was fine."
"Until she wasn't. Until both of you weren't. What changed?"