CHAPTER THIRTEEN LUX

I walked through my front door and quietly walked to my room taking note of the light on in Rick's room. I just wanted to be alone for as long as possible. The conversations with Link really exhausted me. I kept playing them over and over again as I laid curled up on my bed.

'I love you'

'I'm trying to give you an olive branch'

'Please come to me if you're hurting, I'll always make time'

I shouldn't have told him so much. Damn it, I repeated to myself. I really messed up.

This just makes things more stressful. What if he is constantly prying? What does him knowing change? There is nothing he can do about it.

I knew Link wanted to help but he would just make things worse and I didn't need this right now. All of this was bringing up painful memories.

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Flashback:

'Hi Mom' I said excitedly as I came home from school.

'Hey sweetheart, how was your day?' she asked warmly.

'It was school mom, it went about as expected' I replied sarcastically.

As my mom's expression changed she motioned for me to sit down.

'Lux honey, we need to talk'.

I knew this was coming because of the report I filed against Rick the day before. I felt a sense of relief wash over me. My nightmare would be over soon.

She would leave Rick and it would go back to being just us. Life would be rough at first but I would be ok.

'You want to tell me about this?' She slid papers across the table.

This was the original copy of the report I filed with Officer Marshall. The blue ink from the pen I used still looked fresh as I was drawn into the memory of writing the events that took place on the starched white paper in front of me. Mr. Marshall was someone I had known since I was a child, a family friend, someone I trusted to believe me, someone who was supposed to be on my side.

Tears started running down my face, this was harder than I thought it would be. She finally knew. Can she just hug me already I thought. I just need my mom.

'Why would you do this?' she continued. 'Are you looking for attention Lux? You know we both love you so much and we work really hard to make sure you have everything you need. Why would you make this up?'

As if a dagger had been pushed into my side and twisted, I let out a gasp. Fuck professional courtesy I thought as I cried harder but it didn't matter my mom didn't want to believe it, she didn't want to believe me.

She couldn't understand and I empathized with her. I understood that it wasn't fathomable, how could he do this, only predators abuse children. He was her husband, a police officer and when she was home we appeared to be a happy family.

When I saw the hurt in my mom's eyes I decided I couldn't shatter her world. She had been hurt enough. I decided that some things were better left alone and swept under the rug. I was alone in this.

'I'm sorry mom' I sobbed.

'That's not enough, I need an explanation. You could have ruined his career.' She was understandably angry. 'Over a childish fight, you're better than that young lady'.

'I know,' I sulked as I looked down at my shoes in embarrassment. I didn't correct her assumptions but nothing I said wasn't the truth. I was sorry this happened.

I didn't ask him to sneak into my room at night, I didn't ask him to touch me, I didn't ask him to hit me, I didn't ask for him to make me hate myself.

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Coming out of the memory with my mom I struggled to maintain my anxiety. I felt my heartbeat race until it was trying to escape my chest. My breathing became labored and I coughed for air. My vision slowly faded and everything went black.

I was having a panic attack.

When my vision returned I felt dizzy and grabbed my stomach before running to the bathroom and relieving the discomfort.

I watched as partially digested food poured into the toilet. My stomach muscles kept contracting, forcing bile up until there was nothing left. My body was now as tired as my mind and I propped myself up against the tub to rest. If I had the strength or space to cut on my body right now I would but even I have a threshold.

The next morning I woke up in my bed to my alarm going off letting me know it was time to get up for school. I had managed to survive last night and decided to push forward, pretending non of this had happened.

At school I did my best to act 'normal' if there was such a thing. Lincoln caught on quick going along with it, I guess he figured I needed space which I was grateful for.

After school I was in my room doing homework and my phone started to blow up.

LINCOLN: hey

LINCOLN: Lux?

LINCOLN: you can't ignore things forever

LUX: I'm not

LUX: doing homework

LINCOLN: tell me three things that made you smile today?

LUX: the rain

LUX: you

LUX: killing this homework

LINCOLN: I love making you smile :)

LUX: :)

LUX: I really need to get back to homework

LINCOLN: ok, call me if you need anything

I didn't respond we both knew I wasn't ready for that. I knew he was trying really hard to be there for me but I wasn't convinced letting him step farther into my head or the secret life I was forced to live was a good idea.

I tried to save myself once but no one listened. I didn't want to be saved anymore. I wanted to finish the sentence that was handed to me and put it all behind me. A part of my life I would never have to share or think about again. That's what was supposed to happen.

Lincoln and I would have gone off to college together after senior year next year and I would have never had to remember that it happened. It would have been a distant memory.

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A few weeks had passed and things started to normalize again. Lincoln stopped pressing me so much realizing it wasn't helping but I could feel the sympathy radiating off of him. As he walked me home from school that day he held my hand firmer now as if to show me he wouldn't let me go which I appreciated. It was something I did need, a lifeline if I ever changed my mind.

Lincoln was patient, always waiting for me to bring the topic up again but I never did. I could tell he was frustrated and becoming angry that I was still hiding from him.

He didn't understand how hard this was for me. As much as he wanted to know, part of me knew he couldn't handle it. What would he really think if I told him I'm afraid to be intimate with him if we ever got past the point of making out and rubbing our bodies against each other. That sometimes when we cuddle, I'm uncomfortable because if I get lost in my own reality for even a moment, his protective and loving hands that are wrapped around me become Rick's. What if I told him I didn't scream anymore, and that I am in pain all the time.

What if I told him that sometimes I would visual all the ways I could die because dying seemed peaceful and easy.

That when I saw a picture of a beautiful bridge in a magazine ad the idea of jumping into the rapids below looked and felt more serene than the scenery I was staring at. That sometimes I would imagine being in a car accident I wouldn't survive or a random act of violence that would actually be more kind than the painful way I am dying now.

I didn't want to die but sometimes it was a comfortable idea that calmed me. Things could always be worse I would remind myself. Things could be worse.