14 Chapter 14

Anabella's POV

I felt cold, empty and alone when the tears finally came to an end.

I pushed away the only person who actually did care a little about me.

I know you probably think I overreacted. But I don't think you understand, you probably won't anytime soon.

Do you know the feeling?, When you've tried your absolute best best, exhausted the Last ounce of your energy trying to make something right but no matter how hard you try it just doesn't work out. But then you're completely drained and tired and settle for the final result.

And then someone just shows up and goes all 'You didn't even try!"

That's exactly how I feel right now, except right at the back of my mind something keeps nagging me 'really? You tried your best or are you just a weakling?' and I can't get it to shut up. So I just let the voice nag until it fades away, sure to come back soon.

When I finally gain enough energy, and check the time, it's way past evening so I hurry up dinner with the last supplies available.

**********

James didn't come home this night, probably passed out in some bar, and won't be back until probably tomorrow afternoon with a terrible hangover.

It happens quite often but not often enough, because those are the best kind of days, I have a little sense of security and safety since I'm home alone, and I get an extra meal

But that's not the case today because I'm somehow plagued and haunted by my worst memories with he-whose-name-I-shall-not-mention.

I try my best to push them back to no avail. I try to remember happy memories while walking back and forth my room, none that do not link to my parents and I, shut my eyes tight trying to get rid of the provoking images which to any other person would bring smiles, but to me they provoked tears.

I try again, happy thoughts...

Sunset, Vanilla, flowers, Ethan... ETHAN!

Where did that come from!. This is clearly not working out, now I'm thinking about what he said.

"And you just stay and let him hurt and control you?"

Back to square one.

Ethan's POV

I lay on my queen sized bed staring at the ceiling. My mom had finally gotten tired of trying to get me to leave my room.

I just sat in my room all day..... reflecting or as mum called it 'brooding'

"Who do you think you are to tell me that!, Yeah you figured it all out! That doesn't mean you can just say anything without knowing facts"

"Do you know how much I've tried? You!... You!, You think everyone's life is as pretty as yours!?"

What did she mean, is there a deeper meaning, what?....

My train of thoughts are suddenly interrupted as the window of Anabella's room opens abruptly, I can see her because the light of her room is turned on, but she won't be able to see me because mine is turned off.

She stares blankly into space, her blue-green irises holding an Indecipherable emotion.

I observe her with keen interest, she seems to be as disturbed as I am as she walks back and forth in her room clearly exasperated.

Hours later, after a forced dinner with sweet ol mum and her trying to get something out of me I lay back on my bed my eyes where already tired from watching Anabella perform the same oscillatory movement, she settles on the bed and falls into a very weird slumber, and by weird I mean like a log of wood.

I wasn't even gone for up to forty-five minutes and she didn't seem like she was going to sleep any time soon and now.... Without her light even turned off, It almost seems drugs induced

'Ethan, you're overthinking again, just go to sleep'

After doing my before bed routine, I walk to my window to close the curtains, I linger a bit staring at Anabella.

She looked so peaceful, without her usual permanent scowl, her eyelashes brushing against her cheek bones and..

Not again

I'm about to close the curtain chiding myself for acting like a creepy stalker, when her whole peaceful demeanor suddenly disappeared living in its wake a face filled with nothing but pure terror

I watch in confusion as she trashes left and right on her bed gripping her obviously thin comforter.

What the hell is happening?

"No, no" she whispers her face scrunching up in discomfort

"No! Dad" she screams now clawing at her neck.

It takes a last minute impulsive decision for me to stretch my hand over to her Window.

I jump in.

*****

Anabella's POV

" No dad! What are you doing" I scream as I struggle against the clutch of my foster father around my neck.

"I'm not your dad you little bitch, you only call me that when we're in front of the committee, do you get that?" He says tightening his hold around my neck

"Yes da...I mean...s..sir" I struggle to answer simultaneously trying to loosen his hold around my neck.

"Good, now hold still you little Bastard" he says pinning eleven year old me to the ground and going for the waist band of my pants, my jeans already gotten rid off.

I struggle and kick vehemently...

"Let me go! Mum said not to let boys touch me down there"

In response, I receive a breath stopping slap.

"Well, mummy is gone now darling" he says with a sick smile, "and now I'll have to show you that I am not a boy"

I scream and squirm to no avail, no one would hear me, and even if they did, they'd probably believed his theory of my PTSD.

And so I continue to scream and cry for my mum and dad, but they didn't come.

*******

Ethan's POV

I don't know what I was thinking, jumping in, but one thing for sure, I'm at complete loss on what to do as she starts to whimper and cry in her sleep.

"No, please don't, it hurts" she mumbles sweating now.

I slowly walk up to her bed planning to wake her up, but before I do, she grabs on to my arm while trashing left and right... And she doesn't let go, squeezing it almost painfully occasionally when her wails go an octave higher... and I in return sit there beside her bed occasional mumbling encouraging words until her full blown wails reduce to sniffs and hiccups all the while holding onto my arm.

I watch her as she slowly opens her eyes, reddened from crying she breaths in and out, slowly but surely regaining her breath, as if used to similar occurrences.

It takes a moment for her to look down at her palms to notice she is holding another she quickly lets go of my arm as if it burns. She then slowly trails her eyes upwards her palms tightening to a tight ball.

When her eyes lands on mine, I intently stare into it as it widens then.....

"Aaaaah!" She screams as she catapults herself to the other side of her room.

"W-what...a-are.... h-how.. w-when" she struggles to make a full sentence, visibly petrified.

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