It All Started With a Diary

fighting it|part 2

Kade's breath labored slightly at the contact, his stomach sucking in. I didn't rush him, staring at his hardened expression as I awaited for him to speak. 

Finally, he blew out a breath and croaked out, "My father burnt me with his cigarette butt for burning his food."

I grew rigid at his confession. Staring down at the skin, my eyes grew wet all over again. The waves of emotions came in abundance as Kade spoke.

I swiped at a tear just as he said, "Go up. Just a tiny bit."

I followed his order, biting my bottom lip to conceal a sob I watched him flinch behind his lids in the mirror. This one was a longer scar, one that looked to be jagged and old, but still painful. 

"That was the day my father kicked my ass, and cut me with his knife because I flinched when he raised his hand," Kade spoke again, his chuckle dark.

I felt sick. I worked my way up until I found the next scar, in the center of his back.

He shook his head, sighing. "The day my father's drunk ass dragged me through the park while all of the other parents just stood and fucking watched. Bastard even broke my arm."

I pulled my knees under me, pulling myself up to glance over his shoulder. "That's horrible, Kade."

His eyes opened, but he signaled for me to continue. My hands were shaky, but I managed to get to the next one.

"His friend beat me to the ground, because I forgot his buds light," he muttered, staring off into the wall. "I was seven or eight; I don't know, I've gotten my dates mixed up over time."

I paused, watching as he shifted. His eyes were now concentrated on the door, his words now settling in. Slowly, I placed a hand against his back in comfort. He jumped up so quick, yanking around to grab my hand.

I froze, impaled by my fear. I shouldn't have overstepped. He ran a hand over his face, then released me slowly, turning back around. "Shit. Don't do that."

I nodded abruptly. I stared into the mirror, noting how didn't meet my eyes as he did before.

I went to another scar, noting how this one resembled the first, a burn. My shaky hand held the position as if my life depended on it.

"December 24th," he began, slowly raising his head to glimpse at me. That was the first date he had provided. "That was the last one," he finished his words, clenching his jaw in a tight lock.

My limbs were frozen in tact as I heard him. His father had done all of this to his own son...I was going to be sick.

As I stared at his back, I squeezed my eyes tight, my hands falling from him. They reopened as my hands hit the container.

"What is this?" I asked, but didn't pick it up. I didn't think my body was functioning correctly any longer.

Kade knew what I was talking about. His hand went to grab it, taking it from my hold. "Cream. It's to get rid of the scars and calm the pain, but it's slow. Hurts like a bitch, but it's worth it. I don't want them." His head bowed, nibbling on the inside of his cheek. He couldn't meet my eyes...because he was ashamed.

Before I could even think about it, I grabbed his hands. "You're beautiful, Kade."

He still didn't look at me. "That's my line, sweetheart."

I shook my head, squeezing either hand. Slowly, I edged forward until either cheek was in my hold. "You are. Scars and all. You told me that I was strong, but you...you're a fighter, Kade. It's beautiful. You're beautiful."