Addison Stark has a hard life. Her mother died in a plane crash and her father abuses her, leaving cuts all over her arms, legs and torso. But when a certain curly haired boy comes into her life, does she allow him to heal her or does she push him away?


2. Memories

It was when Ciera and I were in the library for our free period when she finally spoke what must have been on her mind since lunch. 

"I can't believe you turned Harry down! He was totally into you!" She exclaimed in a whisper. 

I sighed. "You know I'm not ready for a relationship, Ciera. The only reason we're still friends is because you wouldn't let me push you away. Everytime I wouldn't answer your calls or texts, you would just show up at my house and comfort me while I relived being in that car as the truck came speeding towards us..." I trailed off, eyes wide with fear as the memories of that night came rushing back to me. 

We had been out shopping for clothes, spending some quality time together when we got back into the car to head to our favourite restaurant for a late dinner. She pulled out into the road, waiting for it to be her turn to turn, when the truck came speeding towards us. It was going way faster than it should have, and before I could even open my mouth to warn my mom to back up, the truck hit us, sending us rolling into a pole. The airbags had failed to make an appearance. All I remember is shakily dialling nine-one-one and not being able to tell the woman on the other end what had happened. Then I blacked out, glass from the windows in my hair and on my lap. 

I'd woken up later in the hospital, with Ciera and my then boyfriend, Finn, were the only ones in the room. They explained what happened, and that if I hadn't managed to dial nine-one-one, I probably wouldn't have made it. When I asked about my mom, they said she was in another room and she was on life support. They also told me that she was in a coma. 

I asked where my dad was, and I found out he was with my mom. I was in the hospital for a solid two weeks. Ciera visited, and at first, so did Finn. Then he stopped visiting as often, and it just so happened to coincide with my not wanting to be touched, to talk to anyone. Ciera would just sit there, not saying anything, just being there. And that was enough for her. She understood me better than anyone else. The only reason I let the doctors touch me was so that I could get out of here faster. 

It was at the end of the second week that my doctor came in and told me that my mother had died. And that had been it. I wouldn't talk to anyone. I wouldn't let anyone touch me. Not the doctors, not my dad, no one. Everything was so wrong. I had saved my moms life in the car by dialling nine-one-one, only for her to die later on? What kind of messed up world did we live in? 

I got released two weeks later. Once I got home, I found that my dad had started drinking to drown out the pain of my mom being gone. It was two days later that he came into my room with the silver pocket knife. He blamed me. I hadn't warned her. I could have saved her. He didn't cut deep, just enough to leave a small scar and for it to bleed. But still, he did it. 

The worst part was that he blamed me. And why would I tell anyone? Let someone take away the only family I had left? My grandparents had all died a couple years ago. My parents were both only childs, so I had no aunts or uncles. My dad was all I had left and as much as it hurt, I couldn't lose him too. Not so soon. And I wouldn't be the cause of him getting locked up. No. I know what they do to child abusers in prison. He could end up dead. Then I'd really be alone. 

Ciera had found out by accident. After the cuts started showing on my arms and legs, I took to wearing pants and long sleeved shirts or sweaters. I was having a sleepover at Ciera's. After getting her two younger siblings, Aiden and Joella, we collapsed onto her bed and decided to hang up some of her new posters. 

I reached up to hold up the top of the poster and she bent down to get the tape. That's when she saw them. All over my stomach. She demanded to know if I was self harming and when I told her no, she asked how they could have possibly gotten there. And the story just came pouring out of me. Everything. And with the story, came the tears. 

Ever since then, she's been trying to get me to tell someone. But I kept telling her the same reason why I couldn't. She wouldn't give up though. And we'd made sure no one else will find out. We don't want anyone else telling. She swore to secrecy, and I'm glad I have her. Even if I still flinch away from her touch. 

The library came into a focus for one second before everything blurred to black. 

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...