Chapter 17: You Ever Watch Star Wars?

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"W-what?" I murmur, my brain throbbing with immense pain and I curse, the back of my skull tender. "How the hell did I save myself?"

Brent looks equally as confused but he tries to hide it for my sake, "You did something, it's as if you pushed him away but more... more..." he huffs and shakes his head. "It's like you threw him with a force. You ever watch Star Wars?"

"No," I bite my lip and look down at my dress. It's ripped, some buttons are broken off and scattered on the floor meanwhile my lace bra is on show. My cheeks heat up as shame hits me like a train, I tug my cardigan closer to my body to hide myself; normally I'd get a kick from something so scandalous. Yet this is different.

"Can I help you up? You still have your cast, does it hurt?" The greed demon asks unsurely.

"Why are you helping me?" I hate to say it, but my voice breaks and tears fill my eyes. I'm a mess, yet this boy who normally gets a kick out of drama is assisting me.

"Because we need to stick together," he responds with his eyes trained on the floor. "I know we're usually at each other's throats and I like to make jokes about you, but I'm not always that kind of guy."

I don't ask more questions, "Can you help me?" With my arms outstretched.

He wordlessly helps me up, his hands gentle and caring opposed to my attacker's rough and filthy paws. Every time I blink I see him, even worst when I open my eyes he's right in front of me. "Um, can we go?"

Brent picks up my crutches just as Mr Caville rounds the corner sifting through pages of a book. When he notices he's not alone he looks up and assesses the situation, green eyes widening in concern, "What happened?"

I try to find the words, but I simply can't. Even thinking about what just occurred breaks my spirit and any remaining control I have left. So instead, I do something worst; something I despise. I sob. It escapes my mouth before I can help it, yet that's all it takes for the dam to break.

Tears stream down my face for the second time in a day, sobs painfully rake my bruised body and make me feel lightheaded; I can't help but just lean into Brent for support. Surprisingly he hugs me, his arms warm and safe opposed to everything that just occurred.

I was sexually assaulted.

The sheer statement alone makes me want to curl up in a ball and hide, away from the world and all of its horrors. The thought of walking down a street by myself is nauseating, the idea of being in Stain's class once more is terrifying, the knowledge that I am a victim for the first time in my life is  a hard slap to my face.

"Brent, take her to the nurse. I'll deal with Mr Stain and call the principal to assist. I'll call her mother and I'll take care of everything," Mr Caville says in a calm, even toned voice, rolling up his sleeves as he stares daggers into the demonology teacher's head.

Brent gets my bag and packs up my belongings from the floor before shouldering it, walking next to me as I slowly make my way to the nurse's office which is thankfully close. I try to blank out the sound of grunts and struggle from behind me, focusing dead ahead and trying not to cry even more. Crying is pathetic. That's what I've always thought, so that's what I'll keep thinking; I must be strong, need to be strong. I won't let myself break over this.

"She won't come," I whisper.

"Who?" Brent asks.

"My mother," I grimace. "She won't come for me. Like she told me, her people always come first."

Brent goes quiet and I can tell he's deep in thought. It frightens me how hard he is thinking as we round into the infirmary, knocking before entering. The gluttony demon looks up from her desk, seeming to be writing a letter before her eyes widen at the state I am in. When I broke my ankle I didn't even cry, so I can tell she knows something is bad if my face is puffy from crying.

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