The Abused and The Hurt//Camren//(COMPLETED)#Wattys2019

A Rough Beginning

I tried to get up and regain my balance. I walked weakly to the car. Tears stung my eyes when I saw my dad with a huge gash in his forehead, my mom looked like her bones were crushed she didn't look alive, my brother's right arm bent back in an awkward position and was hanging slightly out the window bleeding only from his nose, and Taylor didn't look hurt just passed out.

"Guys", I said weakly.

No response from any of them.

"Please... wake up... someone.", I whispered. I started to cry.

The sirens grew louder and louder by the second. I turned away from my wounded family when I saw a cop car pull up near me.

A gentleman in the black suit got out the car and started to walk towards me. I backed away from him, I was afraid. He gave me a sincere smile.

"Hello ma'am. I'm officer Tatum, I won't hurt you I'm just here to help.", the man in suit introduced himself.

I looked at him bewildered.

"Ma'am what's your name?", officer Tatum asked.

"Lauren...", I answered weakly.

"Ok Lauren. I'm here to help you. I can there was a nasty car crash here. We're going to get rid of this all. I promise.", the cop informed.

I realized he said "car crash". Memory of what happened before I blacked out recollected. There was the argument and the truck. I started feeling dizzy and felt the world start to close me in. I then felt like I was loosing air, I felt like I was suffocating.

"Lauren calm down. It's ok.", officer Tatum tried to reassure me.

"No none of this is ok.", I whispered.

"Lauren breathe.", Tatum asked.

I couldn't. I can't.

More cars started to pull up near. More cop cars, a fire truck, and four ambulances. Traffic was starting to back up. I can't believe this happened.

Why did it have to happen?

Camila's POV

*first week in a facility... 6 years ago*

"Camila please. We have to give you this. It's important.", my doctor said.

"Don't touch me!", I shouted angrily.

"Camila it's going to help you.", my doctor explained to me for the thousandth time.

"Don't touch me!", I repeated.

"Camila let's do this the easy way. I don't want to call in Roger again.", the doctor threatened.

"You call that jerk in here and I'll rip you to shreds.", I warned.

"I won't have to call him if you just let me give this damn shot. I promise it won't hurt.", Doctor Hansen swore.

"That's what you said last time! It hurt bad!", I shouted at her.

"That's because you can't sit still! I injected it in an awkward position. No wonder it hurt.", Hansen said.

"Always blaming me!", I complained.

"Ugh forget this! I don't have time to be arguing with you.", Doctor Hansen declared and pressed the emergency button.

Not even two minutes and a giant man in a red shirt with light blue jeans comes barging into my faculty room and reaches to grab me.

"Get away!", I screamed. I grabbed a chair I had in my room and threw it towards him.

He caught it swiftly and put it to the side.

"I swear if you put your crusty hands on me I'll make you cacti stuck on your fat ass.", I threatened.

Roger was unfazed by my threat and grabbed me firmly by my wrist and forcefully pushed me up against the wall.

I tried my hardest to fight back his manly strength but I was scrawny and weak. I had no muscle compared to this guy.

"You might want to hurry Ms.Hansen.", Roger called to my doctor.

I looked at her with a nasty glare and she smirked reach for my arm to inject the needle she had in me. I tried to fight out of it, but I couldn't. I felt the needle stick me and I felt the flow of the medicine run through me.

Roger let go of me. I crawled to the floor and went into a corner. Tears of anger and distress ran down my face as I weeped to myself. Doctor Hansen gave me a sad smile and followed Roger out the door.

This is the seventh time this week that I've given problems here. It's not my fault. I don't trust anybody. I won't trust anybody. Cause everytime I let someone in... I always end up getting hurt.

No one understands what's wrong with me. Isn't it obvious though? I'm and orphan. My parents abandoned me when I was five. I have autism. And I hate who I am.

Do you think it's easy being me? Of course not. Is my life gonna change? I damn wish it could.

But nothing will change for me.

I don't even know why I exist.

Why am I here?

Obviously for a reason.

I wiped the tears that are running down my face. I did my breathing exercises to help me somewhat settle down. I look at my "room". I hated it here in the facility. Everyone of the employees look and treat me as something so fragile. So dangerous...

It's not like I'm a monster. I think.

I rolled down the sleeves of my shirt to reveal several cuts I had given myself over the past 6 years. There's a lot.

I roll them back down and I look up at the ceiling helplessly. I bang my head against the wall.

"What's wrong with me?", I thought.

___________

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