CHAPTER 82

Miguel walked through the empty house and up to Emily's familiar bedroom. He entered the room to see Emily standing in her underwear, opposite the full length mirror in the corner of her room, her fingers lightly grazing the scars that zig-zagged.

Miguel, feeling awkward looking at her from the doorway, coughed loudly and knocked on the door frame.

"Hey." He murmured. Emily, not realising he was there, spun around to face him, and immediately dived for her blanket, wrapping it around her in embarrassment. Not because she was half-naked (Miguel had seen a lot more of her anyways). It was because of the scars on her legs… those ugly, ugly scars that in her eyes, made her look like some kind of monster. Though she hadn't created more since Miguel had begun to visit her on a daily basis, she still had all of the reminders scattered across her body. She HATED them. And more so… she HATED that Miguel saw them. She didn't exactly know why, but she felt so much smaller when Miguel saw them.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to walk in on you." Miguel said, turning away as Emily quickly put on some clothes.

"It's… it's fine." She murmured, as she finished changing and then turned back to him, swallowing her embarrassment. The two then began their day…

For the first time since she had come home from court, Emily actually agreed to leave the house. Miguel had managed to convince her to spend the day out with him, and she had reluctantly said yes. In all honesty, she didn't want to, but she was scared that if she didn't and showed 0 signs of improvement, Miguel would eventually give up on her and stop coming to see her. An irrational fear, but one that still gnawed on her brain nonetheless. So Emily hesitantly left the house with Miguel, the pair taking Emily's car and Miguel driving them out of the driveway. To say that Emily was uneasy on the car ride over was an understatement. She was like a gazelle in a lion's savanna, her head constantly whipping around as if she was about to be attacked from any angle. Her hands gripped Miguel's right hand like a vice as Miguel steered the car with the other, and she refused to let go until he had completely parked the car and unbuckled his seatbelt, and Emily knew she was safe. She slowly unbuckled her own and stepped out, looking around and realising that she was in a pretty familiar meadow. It was the meadow that her and Miguel had spent many a picnic in. It was associated with so many of her good memories, but something was different now. Now, there was an RV trailer smack in the middle of the field. That's when Emily realised. Her eyes widened.

"Wait, this is your…" She stammered. Miguel smiled and nodded, spreading his arms wide to point at the surroundings.

"Yup." He said proudly. "Welcome to my home…"

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Emily's jaw hit the ground and her eyes were wide as saucers as she stared at Miguel's new home up and down. She knew that he had emancipated from his mother. She wasn't happy about it for his sake, but when she heard he was living in a caravan, she thought it would be homey kind of place. No, this was like a tin coffin on wheels.

"You live… here?" She stammered. Miguel nodded proudly as he led her inside. Although Miguel had cleaned up slightly this morning, knowing that he was going to be bringing Emily later on, the RV still looked like a dump. As Emily looked around, her heart ached for him. This wasn't a home. He was basically homeless. His 'bed' was a tiny, hard sofa that was surely not at all comfortable. He barely had any food, any water. As Emily saw it all, she realised why Miguel as looking so much worse than before. She figured it had just been because of stressed that he had become much thinner, messier, more tired. But no… given that the only food he had at his place was a tube of spray cheese and some crackers, he clearly hadn't had a good meal in weeks.

Miguel wasn't really in the mood to be lectured about his RV, and Emily could tell, so she didn't say anything. Instead, she watched as Miguel rummaged through the dump of stuff he had in the corner of the trailer, and eventually brought out heavy, before leading Emily back out the trailer and into the meadow.

"What are we doing, Miguel?" Emily asked. Miguel didn't answer immediately, as he was working plugging whatever heavy item he brought out, into a power source. As soon as he did, it automatically began inflating with air and when it was done, Emily realised what it was. That heavy item was the base of a large punching target, and it had inflated the top part into making a punching bag.

Emily looked at Miguel, slightly uneasy.

"I don't know about this, Miguel. You know I don't like violence." She murmured. Miguel nodded.

"I know. Which is why I'm not trying to spar with you. This isn't about learning how to fight. Punching a punching bag is a great stress reliever. Helps you work through any anger you're feeling. Besides, learning some self-defense can't hurt."

"I don't have any anger." Emily said, though both knew it was a lie.

"Everyone has anger, Emily. Whoever says they don't are lying." Miguel murmured, the pain in his own voice evident. If anything, he needed this anger-reliever just as much, if not more than she did, given everything that was seeming to go wrong in his life.

Miguel then turned and faced the target, while continuing to talk to her.

"Think about bad things. People who have hurt you. Days that you wished would end but never did. Channel all of that anger, pain, hatred…"

Miguel threw a flurry of furious punches at the target, his fists white with the power he was clenching them with. Emily watched in silent alarm as his eyes… his eyes flashed with pain and misery like she had never seen in him before. However, as quickly as it came, it went and Miguel turned back to her.

"Just like that." He said. Emily nodded and slowly stepped up to the target. She stared at it, before closing her eyes. Miguel's words from earlier were ringing through her head. Think of people who have hurt you, she told herself. When she opened her eyes, the punching bag had disappeared. Instead, in its place was the men who had held her hostage. Not the leader, but his right-hand man, and that was still enough to make Emily's blood ran cold. She was momentarily motionless, but that was when her anger kicked in.

Fury. Pure, unbridled wrath coursed through her veins like never before. Instantly, her arms were up and she was throwing everything she had at the punching bag. Punch after punch after punch landed with a sickening thump. Miguel, who was standing a few feet away, watched with alarm as tears began to stream down her face. She had gone into a trance as she continued to beat the target, her hazel eyes locked on the target and her fists firing with a vengeance. As Miguel realised that she was in a worrying state, he quickly stepped in, getting between her and the target, gently pulling her away. However, his interference didn't snap her out of the trance. In fact, it did the opposite. For as Emily looked at him, she didn't see the kind face of her ex-boyfriend. Instead, she saw the leading man who had held her hostage. She didn't know Miguel's blood relation to him. All she saw was the same face. The same build. The same hair. The same posture. The same mannerisms. But while Miguel had a very kind smile, the other man had a devilish smirk, like he owned the entire world and could do whatever he pleased.

Before she knew it, Emily's anger exploded and she threw two punches right at the man's face, sending him staggering backwards.

"Ow! Emily!"

It was Miguel's voice that finally dragged Emily back to reality. She managed to shake off her daze and took in the scene before her. Miguel was clutching the side of his face. She had just hit him! The overwhelming emotions rushed through her and her adrenaline soon crashed, leaving her standing there with tears streaming down her face, sobbing quietly. Miguel got over the aching side of his face pretty quickly upon seeing her crying, and his heart broke seeing her like that. He quickly walked over to her and pulled her into a tight, comforting hug, gently whispering assurances into her ear. Emily, tense at the start, soon relaxed. It's okay. It's just Miguel. You're safe. She told herself this over and over again and let Miguel comfort her and bring her back to relative calmness.

After a while, when Emily's tears subsided, the two sat down in the grass, their backs resting against Miguel's RV, and the two began to talk.

"Hey, I'm sorry I don't have much food in here. This was the best I could do." Miguel said as he walked out of his trailer and over to her, handing her a tin of crackers and a can of spray cheese.

"Thanks." Emily murmured, accepting them gratefully. Though the food was awful and it was worrying her that it was all the food Miguel kept for himself at his place, she still took them. Because now that the adrenaline had worn off, Emily's previous state of exhaustion had returned. Nightmares had prevented her getting more than a few hours of sleep that night - or any night in the recent past at that - so she was very sleep-deprived to say the least. She hadn't eaten very much at all in the past while either, so her entire body felt like shit.

They sat in silence for a long while, both having questions but neither having the courage to test the water just yet. Eventually, it was Miguel who finally decided to suck up the courage and do it.

"Hey, Emily?" Miguel said. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah?" Emily responded, not quite meeting his eye yet.

"When you were punching that punching bag, you were thinking about people who have hurt you."

This wasn't a question, so much as it was a statement Miguel had thrown out and let dangle in the air, awaiting confirmation from Emily. She didn't say anything, but the distant expression on her face said enough.

"What's your question?" She eventually said. Miguel nodded.

"Yeah, um… I, um… I was wondering… when you saw those people who have hurt you, am I one of them?"

Emily was taken aback by the quiet question Miguel had asked her. She turned to look him in the eye and once again, saw a flash of misery in his eyes, guilt still etched across his face. It took Emily a while to respond, her mind deep in thought. As she looked at Miguel, once again, when she blinked, sitting before her was that same captor. The one with Miguel's face. The one with Miguel's eyes. The one with Miguel's hair. But Emily didn't freak out this time as, quickly as he appeared, he disappeared again and Miguel returned in his place. She took a deep, shaky breath before shaking her head.

"No." She replied in a voice no louder than a whisper. "No, I… I didn't see you."

That was all she said. Nothing more. No reason. Nothing. But that was all Miguel needed. There was another long silence before Emily asked the question that had been weighing so heavily on her mind since Miguel had first shown up at their doorstep.

"Miguel?" She murmured. Miguel looked up at her.

"Yeah?" He asked.

"Why are you here with me?" She asked. Miguel furrowed an eyebrow in confusion.

"I'm sorry, what?" Miguel said, confused.

"Why are you here?" She repeated. "Are you here just because you feel some kind of insanely stupid guilt and feel the obligation to help me?"

"What? What? No!" Miguel exclaimed. "I would never…"

"Come on, Miguel. Remember who you're talking to." She mumbled, refusing to look him in the eye. "I know you. Don't tell me you would never. Answer me honestly… are you here because you actually want to help me, or do you just feel guilty because of who it was who kidnapped me?"

Miguel looked at her and took one of her hands, squeezing it gently.

"Look, Emily, I swear to you, I'm not here because of guilt or anything. I'm here because I want to be here." He said. Emily nodded and looked down.

"Okay. Then can you promise me that when I start doing better, you aren't going to leave again?" Emily asked.

At that moment, Miguel's conversation with the Child Services the night before rushed through his head.

It's you find a legal guardian, or it's foster care…

Miguel looked Emily right in the eye when he responded.

"I, um… I can't…"