Trigger Warning: This Chapter Contains References to Physical Abuse and Sexual Trauma
I remembered one day back in ninth grade. It was so clearly set in my mind, I'm sure I could never forget it. One night, Troy had come in. He touched me, kissed me, beat me. Whatever his heart desired, and I was his little pleasure machine. It was the usual stuff, and I reacted the usual way. Going to school, hiding my bruises with a large sweatshirt. Hiding my scars with knee socks and boots. No one got to see the marks on my ankles and my thighs and my arms. No one got to see the deep, permanent gashes right below my breasts.
I went to school that day. Sweatshirt. Knee socks. Boots. This time, though, I had a scarf. To hide his finger-shaped bruises on my neck. He hadn't been careful that night. He told me he got too "carried away." He told me I was just too beautiful, and that he didn't have a choice. Then he threatened to kill me if I didn't cover those bruises.
So I tried. But no amount of makeup could fix them. The foundation was too light, and the bruises were far too dark. So I went to school with a scarf that day. Fortunately for me, it was January. And scarves weren't all that uncommon.
Later that day, I went over to Jax's house. We were having dinner with his family. Maya was there, and Milo, and Norah and Richard and Chloe. And, of course, Jax. Things were going perfectly. I was able to hide my bruises, and I hid my pain just a bit better. Later that night, Milo, Maya, Jax and I gathered in the home theater to watch a movie. It was hot in there, much too hot for a wool scarf. But it was also dark in there.
I thought - just this once - that'd it be okay to uncover the bruises. The lights were dimmed, and the giant TV screen was the only thing shining on us. But Maya was beside me. And even back then, she didn't have the capability of being quiet.
"Whoa, Alyssa, what's on your neck?" she asked, much too loudly. I remember the way my stomach sank. I had given myself away.
Troy was going to kill me.
"It's...it's nothing," I said quickly, grabbing my scarf again.
"Yes it is...oh my gosh...Alyssa is that a hickie?" Maya had asked, eyes wide. Jax was on my other side, and of course, that caught his attention. He glanced over, and saw the bruise on the other side of my neck.
"Alyssa, who gave you a hickie?" Milo piped up. "Was it Ryan Thompson? Did you guys get back together?"
"No...no...it's not a hickie...it's just...it's a..." I stammered, trying to find an excuse in that messed up brain of mine.
"A bruise," Jax had finished for me. My stomach tightened.
"N-no," I tried to say, but I was too bad at lying to him.
"Lis," his voice softened. "I know a bruise when I see one. What happened?" He was speaking only to me now, not to Milo or Maya, who had both exhausted their interest and were refocused on the movie.
"It's nothing, Jax."
"It looks like something a person left behind," he continued, a knowing tone in his voice. "You can tell me, Lis. Did something happen?" I was quiet for a while. Until, finally...
"No, Jax. It was nothing. I just...I fell on the ground, my neck hit something on the floor." It was a stupid lie. A stupid lie that we both knew was stupid. Jax knew better than to buy that. But the more he asked, the more I denied it. Until finally - eventually - I forced him to drop it.
Back then, I could keep Jax from finding out about Troy. But this time, I knew, as I drove away...I knew that I couldn't.
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