Hey everyone!
I know I've been gone for quite a while, (I know, I'm sooo sorry!) I've had a lot going on personally and I am super happy to finally be back. I'm not sure if I mentioned it before but I published a book, (yay!), and I'm still super happy about that. I have to go back and read through my fics so I can update them all for you. That's going to take me a while so I figured I'd give you all something new to read while I do that! Thank you so much for continuing to be super supportive! this pic is definitely R rated so please do not read if you are a younger person. Also, extreme trigger warning.
(Topics of rape, sexual abuse, assault, abuse, etc)
I try not to remember. I try not to think about all of it. I try to stay strong. I try and I try but I always fail. All I ever do is fail. It's an everlasting cycle of failure and defeat. I constantly feel like I'm drowning in the memories of my past, a never ending nightmare.
For Jude, it's different. Jude still sees the light and happiness in people. He didn't go through all of the things I went through. But that's okay. That's how I wanted it. I never wanted Jude to get hurt, and he rarely ever did. For all of his mistakes, I took the beatings. I took the abuse. I took it because I could handle it, and because for me, there was no hope. I was always kicked around, pushed to the side, and reminded that I was worthless.
I didn't have good interactions with adults anymore. The thought of my mother was a harsh, painful, sting- a reminder of what I had lost, and what I would never get back. My father? Who cares about him. He made all of this happen, and he abandoned Jude and I, letting all of these horrible things happen to us. To me.
Bouncing around from house to house, getting beat, yelled at, and starved was my life now. It would never change. Shoplifting from stores so Jude and I would have something to eat was my reality, and something I hid from him.
Sometimes I would sit on the sidewalk in the city, and watch parents with their children. Walking, smiling, laughing. I was jealous, and sad. I would never have that. I wished that they would notice me. Notice my black eye, or my fat lip, or even the bruises and hand prints along my body. I wish they would, but they never did. I was just there, in the background.
"Callie!" Jude screamed my name, and my eyes shot open. I was outside, sitting on the steps, dreaming about a better life.
"Yeah, Bud?" I asked, looking at my baby brother. He scooted down the stairs and trotted in front of me, so I could see him.
"I was playing with my tennis ball that you found outside and it rolled into Dan's room." He said, stammering. His eyes were watering, the ball was his only toy. We had to pack light, and only carry what would fit in our backpacks. I always kept our stuff packed, in case we had to run away quick. It's happened before.
I sighed, Dan was home. It was seven at night, and I knew he was drinking. I got up, and stretched my arms. My left eye throbbed from the bruising I received the other night. I touched my lip gently, feeling that it was still swollen. I knew tonight things would only get worse. They always did.
"Jude, Buddy. You have to try and prevent this stuff from happening." I whispered. I knew it was an accident, but it could be prevented.
He looked down, and nodded his head, "I'm sorry."
"I know, Bud." I walked up the stairs, and quietly opened the door. I walked carefully to Dan's room, avoiding the empty cans and trash that littered the floor. His house was a dump.
He was laying on his bed, with a beer in one hand and the remote to his tv in the other hand. I looked at the tv and immediately felt sick. He was watching porn. I looked away quickly, searching the floor for Jude's ball. Of course, it was right in front of his tv. I sighed, ignoring the sick, nervous feeling in my gut.
I walked in quickly, heading directly to the ball.
"Hey!" He grumbled, tossing the remote at me. I avoided it, and it crashed into the wall. He took a sip from his beer, and set it on the night stand beside his bed.
"I just need to get this." I said, my voice shaking. I tried to block out the raunchy sounds coming from the tv.
He shot up, and immediately grabbed my arm.
I cried out in pain, and he grinned. He threw me onto the bed, and slammed his door.
I scrambled up, fearful of what he was planning. He slapped me across the face, and pushed me back down. Before I knew it he was on top of me, and I could hardly breathe. I began to cough, and he covered my mouth. I could feel him, all of him, against my thigh. My eyes began to water, I was terrified. He uncovered my mouth so he could tear my shirt off.
"Please, please don't!" I cried, begging for him to stop. It only encouraged him. He snapped off my bra, and began working my pants off. He tugged at my underwear, and began grinding against me. I couldn't look at him. I knew what was going to happen.
I felt him grunt as he pulled his shorts off. He had no underwear on, and his shirt was already off. I looked down at him, and he was hard. He looked at me, grinning. He looked like some kind of beast.
He plunged inside of me, and I screamed in pain. He started grunting and moaning as he thrusted harder and faster. I cried and sobbed in pain, my body felt like it was tearing in half.
Jude started banging on the door, screaming my name.
Dan grabbed my neck with one hand and slapped me with the other, "Make him shut up!" He growled, but I couldn't say anything. He looked down at my breast, and grabbed them with both hands. His thrusts got harder, and his groans got louder. I continued to scream in pain, begging for it to end.
When he was done, he got off of me and pulled his shorts on. He shoved me off his bed, and I landed hard on his floor. I grunted in pain. I couldn't speak, and I couldn't move.
He opened the door, and I expected to hear Jude run in, but he didn't. I wanted to call out for him, or find him, but I couldn't speak and I couldn't move. I laid there, on my back, staring at the ceiling.
A few moments later, I heard sirens blaring, and I knew what Jude had done. He had gotten help.
I drove as fast as I could, my blood boiling. All I knew was that a girl was getting beat, and no child deserved that.
"Stef, relax. We don't even know what happened. It could be nothing." Mike, my ex-husband, and also my partner, told me.
I rolled my eyes, "Mike there was a little boy sobbing at the station, it has to be real."
Mike didn't say anything. After a few moments, he asked quietly, "Foster kids?"
I nodded, "Mhm. I believe so."
We got to the house, and I jumped out of the car. I ran up the steps, my gun to my side.
Mike caught up, "Stef, slow down!"
The door was wide open, and we proceeded carefully.
The house was tiny, and only one floor. It was dirty, and there was trash everywhere.
I looked at Mike, and he grimaced.
Mike and I split up, searching carefully and quietly.
I paused, hearing a slight noise. I listened closer, and it sounded like soft moans. I followed the noise, into a bedroom, and gasped. It wasn't the porn on the tv that shocked me, it was the teenage girl laying naked on the floor, with bruises and blood along her body.
I put my gun back in my holster and ran over to her, instantly kneeling down.
"Hey," I said quietly. She was staring at the ceiling, tears rolling down her cheeks.
"P-Please don't hurt me." She sobbed.
I felt my heart shatter, I looked around the room, and grabbed a blanket off the bed. I covered her small body, and scooped her up into my lap.
I turned and saw Mike standing in the doorway, his face white as a ghost.
"Ambulance, now!" I stammered, choking back tears. He nodded and left the room.
The girl in my lap didn't look at me, not once. Her body was shaking, and I knew she was raped. There was a handprint on her right cheek, and her left eye was bruised and black. Her lip was swollen, and there was a handprint on her neck.
I began to shake more, and the tears were rolling down faster.
"Shh, Honey, it's okay now. You're going to be okay. You're safe now." I whispered, holding onto her tightly. My heart felt shattered, and I felt sick to my stomach. I wanted to catch the guy that did this, and kill him myself.
She continued to cry, but didn't say a word.
A few moments later I could hear sirens, and I knew the ambulance was here.
I heard Mike talking to them, and he led them to us. They came in with a stretcher, and gently lifted her away from me, being sure to keep her covered.
"No!", she screamed, reaching for me. I grabbed her hand, and gave it a soft squeeze, letting her know that she wasn't alone. She turned her head, and made eye contact with me for the first time.
In her eyes I saw intense sadness, and fear.
I had to help her, and keep her safe.
I couldn't let this happen to her again.
I had to do something.