Tw for sensitive topics such as SA and abuse
Oh my Gosh.
I was skipping class.
With Ethan Gibson?
I'd talked to the boy before of course, but considering the fact that the last time I had spoken to him, I had been collapsed on the floor of the corridors, I hadn't truly appreciated how gorgeous this boy was.
Sitting next to him now, I had to force myself not to stare at him to keep from looking like a creep.
We had walked a block or two away from school, and were sitting on the edge of a bridge.
It was old, and clearly well loved, the colorful paint that once covered it now worn.
The park didn't have much stuff, just the bridge, a set of swings, and a small slide.
It looked slightly run down, and was void of children.
I felt bad for it almost, I know it can't get lonely, but I still felt guilty looking at the empty swings and the sad looking slide.
I finished observing the park, my gaze returning to Ethan, who was sitting beside me.
He was already looking at me
Our eyes met, but neither of us spoke.
The silence between us was comfortable, yet tense.
I let my gaze roam over his appearance, taking it in fully.
He had chocolate brown hair, that looked so soft I had to physically restrain myself from touching it.
It was slightly damp, and tossed into a mop of curls on top of his head.
His skin was tanner than mine, and I couldn't tear my eyes from every inch of it that was exposed. His arms were huge, like seriously huge and packed with muscle. His school shirt was untucked, and his tie was poorly tied, making him look deliciously disheveled.
He had on a pair of Nike runners that were practically sparkling. They were so clean that I began to wonder how often he cleaned them.
Did he clean them every single night? Because that seemed unreasonable. I couldn't imaging doing that.
I realized that I was rambling, even to myself, and skimmed over the rest of his body before tearing my gaze from him.
I spoke after a moment, breaking the lasting silence.
"How often do you clean your shoes?" I blurted, quickly covering my mouth and flushing red from embarrassment.
He laughed at my flustered expression, and I laughed too, something I seemed to do a lot around Ethan.
He was super funny, always doing odd stuff to make me laugh.
He didn't answer my question though, and I had to tell myself not to ask him again.
I moved my gaze forward again, staring off into the trees surrounding the park as I took in a deep breath.
I could feel Ethan's gaze on my face, and I felt my cheeks heat.
"How'd you get that?" he asked curiously, and I almost jumped out of my skin when he gently gripped my chin, turning me towards him.
His gaze wandered over my face, before fixating on my cheek.
He ran his thumb over a jagged scar on my right cheek, just below my eye.
I flinched from the touch, pulling away from him, and he quickly did the same, probably realizing just how close we were.
"What happened there?" he repeated himself, and I felt my body go numb at the memory of how I got the scar.
I sat huddled in the corner of my older brother Joeys bedroom.
I felt Tadgh whimper from next to me when a loud crashing came from downstairs.
It was only our first week back home from foster care, and our father was already back.
I wasn't stupid, despite what most people seemed to believe, I had common sense, and I knew that my father would be back eventually.
Just not this soon.
Tears spilled from my eyes when my mother screamed from downstairs.
"Marcella!" She shrieked, and I hugged onto my brother tighter, trying to ignore the soul crushing feeling inside of me.
I was such a coward
I needed to help her.
Joey wouldn't get home from hurling training for another hour and Darren was out to pick him up.
I couldn't take another hour of this, I couldn't even take another second of this.
I stood up from my spot on the wall, my legs shaking violently.
"Marci!" Shannon cried from behind me, baby Ollie in her arms. "Where are you going?"
"I have to help her" I choked out, feeling helpless as I quickly unlocked the bedroom door and slipped out into the hallway before Shannon could stop me.
I tip toed down the stairs, holding my breath and freezing every time they creaked.
When I finally reached the bottom, and the increasing sound of my mother's sobs became unbearable, so I turned the corner into the kitchen.
My mother saw me first, her eyes widening as she reached out to me for help.
Her clothes were torn and her face was bruised, but she wasn't bleeding.
I had come in time.
Then my father noticed me, his head whipping in my direction.
His eyes locked with mine, his pupils dilated unnaturally large.
"You shouldn't be here girl!" he spat at me
I stood as tall as I could, and took two brave steps forward until I was nearly face to face with my father.
"Leave her alone!" I screamed, catching everyone in the room off guard, even myself.
I never raised my voice.
Because I refused to be anything like my father.
My head snapped back as my father's fist came into contact with it, and a sharp piercing pain shot through my cheek at the contact of his ring.
I felt my cheek become damp, both with my blood and my tears as they streamed down my face.
"You want to learn your lesson the hard way!" he screamed at me, and I used everything in me to resist the urge to cower backwards.
"I said!" I took a deep breath in, "Get off of her!"
"You bitch!" he screamed at me, lunging for me, as I swerved from his grasp, grabbing a bottle of whiskey from the kitchen table, wielding it as my weapon.
Before I could even move, my father grabbed my neck, slamming me against the floor, slowly tightening his grip.
The bottle fell to the ground, shattering on impact.
"You asked for this beating you brat!" he screamed at me as I felt my back come into contact with the glass on the ground, the jagged pieces piercing my skin.
I cried out in pain as he straddled me, his fists coming down into my chest repeatedly as I gasped for air.
"S-top" I cried, trying desperately to suck air into my deprived lungs and get him off of me.
"You're gonna give me what your mother took from me!" he spat at me, tugging at my baby blue nightgown.
He forced his mouth onto mine as I struggled from beneath him, trying desperately to escape his grip.
He rubbed his hands along my body as I cried out for help and thrashed.
He removed one hand from my neck, using it to tear my nightgown from my body as I screamed for him to stop.
He tried to pull my knickers off of me, and I let out a shriek so loud that he stopped, returning his other hand to my neck to silence me.
I clawed at his hands and face as I felt my airways shut.
As I felt my world collapse.
I thrashed under his grip, kicking and trying my best to scream, praying that anybody, literally anybody cared enough about me to stop him.
My vision began to blur and my body became weaker as I stopped struggling against him.
Stopped screaming.
stopped crying.
just stopped.
The front door slammed open, and I heard shouts.
A larger figure darted into the kitchen, tearing my father off of me and two hands hooked under my arms, leaning me against the wall as they yelled something.
It didn't take long for me to realize that It was Darren who pulled my father from me, because instead of hearing my father's screams, I heard my brother trying to reason with him, which meant that Joey hadn't gotten his hands on my father yet.
Good.
I thought, those screams haunted me, almost as much as my mother's, or my own.
"Marcella!" Joey screamed from beside me
"Marcella please tell me what happened!" He shouted, but I couldn't focus on him, and I tuned his voice out, turning my focus to the broken looking figure across the kitchen.
my mother
watching the whole thing happen
she didn't stop him
and now as she turned her lost gaze to me, she looked angry.
angry at me.
it was my fault.
not his.
mine.
"I have no clue actually" I laughed awkwardly, turning away from Ethan and blinking away the tears stinging at my eyes.
A/N
Hey y'all, I'm really sorry this chapter is so dark, but I really needed to excensuiate(word i made) why Marci is the way she is. I also PROMISE that marci and ethan are NOT awkward it will just take me a tiny bit of time to write the next chapter to MAKE SURE of that.
Anyway Ily! you are loved! and if you EVER need somebody to talk to, I'm here! just pm me!
shout out to Juliet-Gomez for all of the support on my story!! ily!!