“I knew, I knew what was happening. And I’m sorry I didn’t help you, I’m sorry I didn’t acknowledge you. I’m sorry I turned a blind eye to your pain.” She paused before she continued again
She didn’t look at me, wouldn’t meet my eyes. She knows that if she did, I would see the guilt on her face.
The vulnerability.
I wasn’t upset that she didn’t help, at first I was. Who wouldn’t? It was in her house, her walls were thin, so thin you could hear a pin drop.
“If you came here to vomit out guilty words, I’m going to ask you to leave” It seemed harsh, it was harsh.
But I can’t help feeling..angry, I knew she knew. We made eye contact every time I came over. I talked to her about it.
When I pressed charges I knew what I was doing. She was an accomplice, a bystander.
I let out a shaky sigh before pushing back on my chair and standing up “Why didn’t you say anything? Why did you tell the cops I lied?”
She looked at me as if I had just punched her in the gut.
But she didn’t have the right to feel that
She’s didn’t have the first to feel guilty.
She made her bed, and now she needs to sleep in it.
“Because if they figured it out, they’d know I knew. I was quiet but I was not blind, that would be the conclusion they’d draw if they new.” She let out what could be described as a sob
She was crying, why does she get to cry? Why didn’t I get to cry when I was on my knees?
Begging for her help, asking her to save me.
“I don’t need your excuse, or your tears. I just hope the next time, you’ll be able to stand up for your own child. And not believe another over him.”
There were so many things I wanted to say, I wanted to tell her how sorry of an excuse she was. How her child deserved better, how her child was the one who saved me.
Her child did the one thing she couldn’t do, and I suppose that’s what hurts the most.
They always said to reach out for help, but the one time I did, she turned me away.
“I’ll be leaving now, I hope you..forgive yourself in time”
I wasn’t upset anymore, I just wanted closure. And I wasn’t going to let another persons regrets ruin my chances of getting it.
And just like that, I got up and left.
(Sorry for the bad writing today, I had no motivation to write at all)
“You keep to yourself, I’ve noticed. Even before summer break you never tried to stand out, why?”
I sighed as I looked at his curious eyes, his hands tapping against his knee as he waited for an answer, an answer I couldn’t give.
“Because..” I trailed off, because what? Why do I keep to myself? “Because I just don’t like receiving attention, it makes me feel nervous.”
Why am I lying? I love attention, it’s the only thing I crave from my parents. Not love, not anything. Just affection. But what did I expect me to say?
I didn’t have a reason. I never did. I guess it was just..me.
I watched as he laid his entire body on the bed, his arms resting on the white crystal designed pillows
“What about you?” I asked before reposting my position on the bed, sitting in one place was the most uncomfortable thing in the world, other than being in the same room as a teacher that fucked you the entire summer break.
What a small world.
“Me? I guess I don’t want attention, it just comes to me” he paused, I could tell he was thinking about telling me a half truth, I would know, I just lied to him.
“The attention makes me anxious sometimes, I get nervous and then my Palms get sweaty” My mind drifted off somewhere
Anxiety, I relate to that. I get nervous too when presenting in front of other people, but I suppose it’s not exactly the same thing.
Though both of ours is social based.
“Does that answer your question baby?” He was so subtle with the nickname I almost didn’t notice it
Almost.
“Why do you call me that? I’m older than you” I quickly shot him a glare which made him chuckle
What was so funny?
“So are you telling me you want to call me baby?” He stopped laughing at me but had an annoying smirk plastered all over his face
“I—we—No!” I buried my face into a pillow, what was wrong with this guy? Why is he terrorizing me?
“Baby I was kidding” He tried to take the pillow away from my face but I held it even harder, I couldn’t let him see my face.
I didn’t want him to see me being vulnerable, I won’t let anyone see me like that. Ever again.
Sensing my sour mood, his hand ran through my silky hair, getting rid of any tangled bits.
“I won’t ever judge you, D.” His words were so sweet I genuinely considered giving up and letting him see my vulnerable expression
Again, almost.
He groaned and I felt him drag me down onto the bed, we laid in silence for a few moments before he spoke again
“I mean it, D. I’m not the kind to judge someone, especially not you.” I felt his voice trailing off and the room fell into a deep silence
He fell asleep.
I quickly removed the pillow from my face and sat up, staring at him, I ran my hand through his hair. Mimicking the way his hand ran through mine, not exactly the same but similar.
“I know” I whispered softly, not caring whether he was actually asleep or not. “But that’s why I can’t be with you, I’ve done things that I’m sure you’d hate me for.”
Or rather, let some things happen to me. I wasn’t a victim, I knew that. It was a mutual agreement, yeah I told him to stop when we were having sex, and yes I never said the word “yes” to him. I still let it happen
It was my fault and I’d have to take responsibility for it.
He let out a soft yawn, so silent that I almost missed it, before resting his head on my thighs
“I could never hate you, mon amour.” He then fell asleep a second time
Unlike his other, annoying yet loveable nicknames, I had absolutely no idea what that meant. But knowing him, it was probably something sweet.
I put two of my fingers on his nose bridge before squeezing it together, when I let go he let out a loud snore
He was truly asleep this time.
