⚠️Trigger warnings⚠️: Descriptions of sexual assault in first person and domestic violence. Proceed with caution. 🖤
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Disclaimer: This is not my normal style of writing. Most of my fics are more upbeat and smutty with a little angst. 🖤
Josephine's POV
Close your eyes. Think of something else. It'll be over soon. I feel the weight of him on top of me. Feel him forcing himself inside of me again and again. I used to fight him. I used to cry. Not anymore, there was no point. I turn my head to the side and look out my window. I see a blue bird teetering on the edge of the fence. Fly away, pretty thing. There's nothing good here. Go. Be free.
My stepdad grunts in my ear as he finishes what he came here to do. He stands up and walks away without a word, leaving me naked and ashamed. I quickly pull the covers over my body to hide. I have become pretty good at blocking it out. Most of the time it feels like I'm not even there. It feels like I'm watching it all from the outside. Sort of like a movie. A horrible movie. My heart hurt for the poor girl I saw.
A shower. Wash away the guilt. Wash away him. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Come on, Jo. Just get up. You can do this. I force myself out of my bed and stand up shakily. I try to bring myself back to reality with a little trick I have learned. I focus on the feeling of the carpet under my bare feet. Touch. I take a deep breath in through my nose, smelling the pine scent from my favorite candle. Smell.
I listen to the clock ticking on my wall. Sound. I look out my window and watch the trees blowing in the wind. Sight. And my personal favorite. Taste. I walk slowly to my nightstand and dig around in the back, pulling out the small bottle of whiskey. I raise it to my lips and shudder as I taste the alcohol. It burned going down and I grimaced. But it did the trick. I was brought back to earth.. Well, back to hell.
I feel him begin to drip out of me. My stomach turns as I shove the bottle back in my dresser and head to the bathroom. I hate it in here. The vomit green walls match perfectly with the contents of my stomach as I empty them into the toilet. I lay my head on the toilet seat, feeling the coolness against my face. Is it gross? Sure. Not any more gross than what just happened. I allow a single tear to escape before wiping it away quickly.
The tiles are pressing hard against my knees and I welcome the pain. I welcome anything that takes my mind away from reality. "Josephine." I hear my stepdad's voice. "Yes?" I say simply. "I'll be back in a few hours. You know the rules." he says through the bathroom door. Don't go outside. Don't answer the door. Don't speak to anyone. "Yes, father." I answer. And he's gone. The monster.
That's what I call him. When I was younger, other children were afraid of monsters in their closet or under their bed, I was scared of the one living with me. The one wearing a human face. The one who was supposed to protect me from the monsters ended up being the biggest monster of them all.
Billy's POV
SMACK
I feel the sting of my dad's hand across my face. My cheek feels like it's on fucking fire, the burn from his palm sticking around for too long. I grit my teeth and try to hold back my anger. Try to hold back my tears. He's in my face, his whiskey breath making me sick to my stomach. "What did I say, huh? Didn't I tell you to take out the GODDAMN trash?" he spits in my face.
You should've seen him when I forgot to pick up his beer. Happened one time and one time only. He beat me until I was almost unrecognizable. I couldn't go to school for almost three weeks. He told the teachers I was down with a bad case of "the flu".
The only sickness in this house is him.
"Yes, dad." I mock. He grabs my shirt tight and presses his nose to mine. "You wanna be a smartass, Billy?" he hisses. Yes. "No." my voice is barely audible. "What was that?" he says as he pushes me flat against the wall. Asshole. "No, sir." I say, feeling my eyes begin to well up with tears. Fuck.
He lets go and just when I think I'm in the clear he clocks me once right in my mouth sending me flying back into the wall. "Take out the fucking trash." he slurs as he walks away. I sink to the ground as I feel the warm liquid pouring from my mouth.
I don't try to wipe it away, I don't care to. I feel a tear fall down my cheek and across my bloodied lip as I lean my head against the wall. Love you too, dad.
Josephine's POV
Don't do it, Jo. You know the rules. I glance out the back door and see the outside world. The beautiful trees, their branches flowing lightly in the wind. Trees are my favorite thing. They are strong and beautiful and I like to believe they listen when I talk to them. I don't have many people to talk to.
I get outside time. Two times a week. Thirty minutes at a time. Always under the bird's eye view of my stepfather. He's always there. Always watching.
I like to take that time to sit under my favorite tree and read a book. It's right next to the fence and gives me a perfect corner to snuggle into. And I talk. I tell the tree how my day was. Sometimes I cry and tell the bad things that have happened.
My stepdad watches from his seat in the kitchen, placed perfectly in front of the glass doors. His eyes never leave me but it's the only time I can speak freely. The tree doesn't judge me. It never has.
I see the sun shining down, their rays pouring through the glass doors. It looks like heaven. It's drawing me in, I'm basically a fiend for the sun on my skin. The warmth encompassing me. I don't get it enough.
I look down at my pale skin and nibble on my bottom lip. I have a bad habit of tearing the skin from my lips. I don't even know I'm doing it anymore. Sometimes they bleed from my incessant gnawing.
He said he'd be gone for a few hours. Would he know? The punishment for breaking the rules is one I can't speak of. Is it worth it? I slowly walk to the door and press my hand against the glass. It's so warm.
Before I can stop myself my hand grabs the gold handle and opens the door. I step out and feel the sun immediately hit my face. I walk a little farther and my feet touch grass. I crave it all the time. Have you ever been locked in a house for years, one hour of sunshine a week? And that's if I behaved.
I reach down and press my hand into the dirt, feeling the earth in between my fingers. Suddenly I hear a loud crash from next door. "Fucking asshole!" a gruff voice yells and I hear the clang of metal. I walk slowly to the fence and stand on a little stump, peeking over.
I see him. He throws a bag of trash into a metal can and then kicks the can over, the trash spilling into the yard. He lights a cigarette as he grumbles something I can't quite catch. Wow. I can't tear my eyes away from him.
I see blood on his lips and chin. I know what it's from. I've heard them. The screams, the glass breaking, the cries when he's alone. I wonder if he has heard me cry.
I've only seen him in passing a few times. I've never been able to look. I take this time to examine his features. I look at his sandy hair falling around his handsome face. Even with the marks his father had left, he was beautiful.
He was too far for me to see his eyes.
My foot slips and I let out a squeal as I try to steady myself on the tree stump. His eyes shoot to mine. Uh oh. "What the fuck are you doing?" he says angrily, walking closer to the fence. "I..." I can't think. I can't speak.
I'm breaking too many rules. He's going to know. My eyes start to water and I see his face soften just a bit. "If you wanted a peek, you could've just asked," he chuckles. I stare at him blankly. "I'm Billy," he continues. Billy.
"I'm Jo." I say sheepishly. "Jo.. the mysterious basket case from next door." he says stepping on a cinder block, his face now right in front of mine. Blue. His eyes are blue. I can't believe I'm this close to someone else. I smell cigarettes and some kind of cologne.
I can see his lip closer now, it was split pretty bad. I reach out and run my thumb across it without thinking. He just looks at me curiously. "I'm sorry. He shouldn't do that." I whisper. Billy ignores my sentiment and changes the subject.
"You know we've lived next to each other for years and we've never spoken." Billy says, pointing out the obvious. His eyes scan my face as I say nothing. I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do. This is all foreign to me. This isn't allowed. This is forbidden.
My heart starts to pound and I want to scream because of how stupid I am being. I slide off the stump and turn to leave. "Wait!" Billy calls and I glance back at him. "I.. I like your name. Jo. It's pretty." he says and I see his busted lip curl into a smile.
My heart is beating fast, partially from fear and partially from whatever Billy just said to me. I barely heard him if I'm being honest. My eyes were glued to his lips but I could hardly hear the words. I give him what I think was a smile before quickly going back inside.
I run to the bathroom and wipe the dirt from my hands. I see a bit of Billy's blood on my fingers as I scrub my hands. My mind was swirling with thoughts. Thoughts of his eyes, his voice, his smell.
I wonder what it would be like to kiss someone willingly. To have that choice. To want to do it. I've never thought about it before today. Before him.
I don't think I will ever have the chance but it's nice to dream. Dreams are the only thing that keep me alive. An escape from reality. If it wasn't for dreaming, I would have been gone a long time ago.
Billy's POV
Jo. She was beautiful. Dirty blonde hair, fair skin, hazel eyes. She was weird. Awkward. Quiet. Not my usual type. But there was something drawing me in. She was different and I was curious. I want to know more about the girl hidden away.
I've only seen her a few times. I never paid much attention. I kinda have a lot to deal with on my own. But seeing her up close, seeing her vacant expression. Her almost lifeless eyes hurt me.
I've heard her cry. I've heard him scream. Now that I think about it, I've never seen her alone before. Is that why she panicked? Is it that bad for her? Maybe we could relate more than I thought. What the fuck is going on, on the other side of that fence?