Being in a group home wasn't ideal for anyone, but for the six teenagers, it was the best they could get out of the crappy system. In other's eyes, it was an odd way to form a friend group bonding over being in the same abusive home. But in their ey...
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The next morning I walked down the stairs, passing the guest bedroom that temporarily held Walker. I'm still sick to my stomach from last night, when he told the whole story I tried to act calm and understanding but I was dying on the inside.
My 'trauma' —if you can even call it that now— was like a pebble compared to the boulder of the abuse he endured. Hearing what he—all—of them had to go through made me sick to my stomach.
I was jealous at first, they were all so close and seemingly grew up attached the hip together. But it wasn't a cute childhood friendship like I thought, it was so much worse.
It's 9:30, far too late to go to school. I've been awake for hours, I'm not even sure if I ever fell asleep.
When I enter the kitchen my mom and dad are quietly whispering, steaming mugs of coffee in their hands. "What's wrong?" I ask, my brows knitting together.
Their eyes snap over to my direction but linger on something behind me.
I turn around, following their gaze. Walker stands there in my PJ's, shifting on his feet uncomfortably.
"Come take a seat, honey," Mom says, pointing to the bar stool. Walker obeys, walking slowly, following behind me as I take a seat.
"Would you like anything to eat?" She smiles softely at my friend who looks at her with a wary look. "No thank you."
Mom shakes her head. "Nonsense, let me make you some eggs. Are you allergic to anything, dear?"
Walker thinks for a moment, looking down at the marble countertops. "I don't know, sorry."
This is nothing like the Walker I've known for the past weeks. He's acting scared, but why?
My chest tightens when it hits me. He's terrified of adults. He's never admitted it, but why wouldn't he be? From what I've heard, all they've ever done Is cause him harm.
"That's okay." She walks over to the fridge grabs the carton of eggs and whisks them into a bowl.
"Walker," my dad says, gaining everyone's attention. "You're going to have to talk to someone about what happened...last night."
Walker abruptly pushes his chair back, standing up. "No!"
He takes several steps away from us like we are fire. "You promised you."
"I know," my dad starts, a sorrowful look on his face. "But I won't let you go back to that apartment, not with him in it."
Walker takes a deep breath, running a hand down his face. "Thank you for letting me stay here tonight, but I'm going back."
"Just listen to me, we can call someone and get you out," my dad tries to reason. Get them all out, I want to scream. Save my friends.
Walker goes pale. "If you call fucking social services it's going to be worse for everyone!"
