Hey guys, this chapter is going to involve abuse and some flashbacks, just FYI. This chapter is rated M.
Chapter 3:
The next evening:
As I'm sliding into my light green mini- dress for dinner at Rossi's house, which I'm sure will be extravagant because he's practically a millionaire—I examine my wrists, slowly healing, but almost ready to be cut open again. I feel the longer I restrain from cutting, the more pain and numbness will overtake me when I give in to my desires. Some bangles would be good to cover these up. I pick up the gold bracelets and slide them onto my thin wrists, perfectly covering the scars. I slip on a pair of tan sandals with yellow flowers on the strap, perfect for an occasion like this. They remind me of my mom.
She gave these to me on my previous birthdays that were originally hers. My mother had a passion for shoes; so giving up these shoes for me was a big deal. They were the last thing she ever gave to me. Just wearing them makes me an emotional wreck, but with the dress I'm wearing for the occasion, "They're the only thing that would match," as my mother would say.
Before tears can fall from my eyes, I'm redirected into the moment by Spencer's voice. "Bella, we should be leaving soon, we don't want to be late to Rossi's, otherwise Morgan will be on our case." As I quickly apply some thick, black mascara and golden eye-shadow, I respond to Spencer, telling him I'll be down in a few moments.
To be honest, I don't know my half-brother very well, and I think I avoid getting to know him because of my father. I'm afraid of all the memories and emotions he will give back to me; abandonment, helplessness, vulnerability. I feel bad for distancing him from me, but I don't want him to get too attached, because with attachment comes love, and love ends up walking out the door on me every single time I allow my heart to take over my actions. Although love is the best feeling in the world originally, I eventually end up drowning in its clutch.
As I climb downstairs, Spencer looks at me, shocked at how well I can clean up. "Hey you ready to go? You look great by the way," he says.
"Yeah, let's get going." Let's get this done and finished with.
As we're driving to Rossi's house, which is a good 30 minute drive from Spencer's house, he decides to strike up conversation. "Hey Bella, how are you feeling about your mother? I know it must be hard to lose a family member like that." I gulp, feeling my heart start to spazz in my chest. "I'm fine," I say coolly, not wanting him to get involved with all the emotional baggage I carry.
He pulls over the car, off of the highway and parks the car. I stare at him, my eyes sending confusion and a slight bit of sadness to his. "Bella, I need you to tell me the truth, I can see how this must be tearing you apart, and I can't bear to see you bottle yourself up anymore; anyone who has been through an event such as witnessing a suicide is obviously not going to be okay. You need to talk to someone, and I'm here for you," he said. He had obviously thought this over. As I started to speak, my voice almost cracked, showing my vulnerability. "Yeah, it's going to take time I guess, I just have to hope it will get better," I say, partially speaking the truth, but also partially lying. I don't think I will ever get over this. My body starts to shake, and shift positions to try to hide my emotion from my older brother. "Bella…It's okay, I'll help you through this. Just know I'm here for you. When you're ready, I'm here," he says sincerely, laying his hand on my knee, making me flinch unintentionally. "He's going to figure out the abuse someday you know," I think to myself. "Yeah, but it can wait," I think to myself, pondering about how I should react to the situation.
"…Thanks Spence, it means a lot."
"I hope so," Spencer says, giving me a sad smile, not even fully aware of the demons I'm currently fighting. "You ready to go inside?" I nod, stepping out of the car and walking up to Dave's front door.
His house is beautiful. It's a cream colored, 3 story building, with lush vines and blue and yellow flowers flowing over the top of the house. The windows have blue curtains, looking fresh and new, as well as the brown wooden door and pebbled walkway making his home seem like a house out of a fairytale. Dew sits on top of the bright, luscious grass, giving the outside of his home a scent of freshly mowed grass.
Spencer knocks on the door, making a harsh thudding sound in response. Rossi opens the door, welcoming us into his home, along with Garcia, Hotch, Emily, JJ, and Morgan. I'm complimented on how great I look-although I don't feel so good-and we all take a seat at the dinner table. We're eating fettuccine alfredo, a vinaigrette salad, and chicken parmesan. Everyone starts eating, famished, and start talking-interrogating- me in the middle of dinner. Not to make matters worse, I haven't eaten much since my mom's death, and eating this much is going to make me feel sick. I can feel the need to purge, but I shove the feeling back into the pit of my stomach as I'm shoveling the food down my throat.
"So, Bella..." Hotch starts, "how are you settling into your new home?" Everyone turns their eyes to me, their eyes glowing like hawks. I can feel the tension run up my veins, constricting my body position. The profilers seem to notice as well, and they relax in their chairs, leaving me a cozier environment to talk in. "Um, it's okay," I say, smiling at Spencer. "My room is really nice, and I've got almost everything unpacked from my old house." Hotch, sensing my discomfort, changes the topic to his wife and son, to my relief. I pick at my salad, pretending to be engrossed in my food, when really, I just want to be alone.
Is it bad to want to be alone? I don't want to cry in front of strangers, to seem weak and feeble. Being tough on the outside is my only option, even though I feel like knives are stabbing me from the inside out. I fiddle with my hands, not wanting to talk, going into my own little world. I don't know how long I can control the memories for.
Before I know it, I'm having uncontrolled flashbacks, and probably a panic attack sometime soon.
I'm walking into my mom's room again, seeing her hang there. I'm crying, shaking on the floor, like a leaf. I'm dialing 911 again, thinking—hoping—this is a dream.
Then all of the sudden the scenery changes, this time the setting being in a cold, dark apartment corner; where we lived when my dad was alive.
"You BITCH," my stepdad yells. "You spent all of our money to let Bella go on a FIELD TRIP?" he says with rage. "That money was for me. Do you know how hard I work to provide us with money, with food, with CLOTHES ON OUR BACKS? NO? I DIDN'T THINK SO!" Rob says as he kicks my mother in the stomach, blood flowing onto the cream colored carpet. He kicks her. Again. Again. And Again, until she stops moving.
"I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO GO TO BED!" He tells me, furious and drunk. "YOU'RE NO GOOD, JUST LIKE YOUR MOTHER…I BET YOU'RE BETTER IN BED THAN HER THOUGH," he slurs as he shoves me against the wall, pinning my legs against his. I can feel him through my shorts, and I struggle to remove myself from his grip. "YOU'RE NOT ESCAPING THIS TIME, IZZY."
He shoves me onto the bed, removing his boxers, making me perform oral sex with him, his manhood growing in size and making me gag. He makes me swallow him and caress him. Tears stream down my face, showing my vulnerability.
The worst hasn't even come yet.
He pulls off my clothes, leaving me totally nude. He shoves into me, hard, making me cry out in agony. It hurts so much; I just want it to be over.
He moves in and out of me, progressively getting faster, and making me ache everywhere. My head pounds, adrenaline pumping my blood, catching my breath. As he hits his orgasm, he releases into me, and I can feel his juice flow into me. It's disturbing, but I know when I'm silent, he doesn't hurt me as bad.
Doesn't smack me around as much.
As he pulls out of me, he punches and kicks me everywhere exposed "Wasn't that fun, Izzy?" he sneers. I just lay on the bed, waiting for him to leave.
But he never does.
*While the team is eating dinner:
"So, Bella, are you enjoying your summer holiday?" Emily asks.
"Belllaaa?" she repeats.
The team looks at me, although I am unaware, already emerged in a deep nightmare, about to go into a catatonic state.
"Hotch, I think she's having a flashback," Morgan says, going over to pat me on the shoulder. "It's okay hun, it's okay." He touches my shoulder, making me flinch and panic even more.
"She's having a panic attack," Spencer says. "I obviously didn't realize how traumatic this has been on her…."
I go into another flashback—one of my mother taking sleeping pills, drinking and driving, being reckless; I'm watching the effects of my abusive step-father's death take its toll on her.
It clearly did.
I'm once again replaying the moment of when I found my mother hanging from the chandelier when I hear a voice calling my name.
"Bella, it's okay, take some deep breaths," the comforting voice says.
Wanting to escape my memories, I obey the voice, trying to breathe.
All of the sudden, I slip out of my panic-attack, seeing blurs of colors.
As my contacts focus, I see everyone is staring at me. Garcia is blotting away tears. JJ and Emily look shocked, Hotch looks worried and sympathetic, and Morgan and Spencer look frightened and deeply grieved.
Oh shit.
Everyone saw that flashback didn't they?
I look around the room frantically, eyes welling up with tears and cheeks flushing in embarrassment. As I stand up to get out of the house, I trip over the chair in a hurry to escape the scrutiny I'm under. I'm such a klutz. I run out of the house, running in different directions, I don't care where I'm going, anywhere but here is paradise.
I keep on running for what seems like hours, my heart and lungs pounding out of my chest. Buckets of water are pouring out of my eyes, and I just keep on running. Running from the insanity that was my life.
And is my life.
I finally approach a somewhat abandoned area, and sit down in front of an old, sturdy tree. I cry. And cry. And cry.
I sob for my mother, who had her life taken away by addictions and her former husband—my step-father. I sob for the beatings that were given and taken. I sob for the grief of abandonment and the grief of death. I sob because the angels took my mother too soon; they took her too soon to save me.
I sob for loneliness, for the moments of physical and emotional agony. For my step-father, for him coming to ruin our lives and I cry for my father leaving me.
I'm just not good enough for anybody…
Suddenly, I hear a set of footsteps—two sets of footsteps.
I feel two pairs of arms surround me.
I look up and see Hotch and Emily, looking concerned. I bury my face in my chest, and continue quietly sobbing. Hotch pulls out a hanker chief and hands it to me. I give him a look of appreciation and blot my tears, staining the hanker chief. I start to hand it back to him, but start laughing at the look of disgust he gives me when I try to do so. He and Emily pull me into their arms, trying to comfort me.
Once I catch my breath and regain my composure, I start speaking. "How did…you guys find me?" I said with thought. "I ran for miles, and miles. I just wanted to be alone."
"We know sweetie," Emily whispers. "We found you by tracking your cell-phone." Of course they tracked my cell-phone, they're FBI agents. "You know, you don't have to go through this alone, we're all here for you." I glance up and see Emily and Hotch's comforting gazes. Yes I do. "How much did everyone hear?" I ask, wondering if they know about the rape and abuse. "We only heard you scream, 'not her, not her, take me instead,' she said sadly. Her worries are written all over her face, she is obviously concerned about me.
"Come on, let's take you home, everyone is getting worried, especially Spencer," said Hotch. Noticing my shaky legs and tired composure, they lift me up into the FBI van they had drove to Rossi's house and take me home.
Hey guys, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It was quite interesting to write. Please review if you have time, any criticisms/praises will be appreciated. Suggestions are welcomed! Next chapter I will be talking about the impact of Bella's panic attack on the team and herself. I will also definitely start her health problems and cutting. I will try to update this story tomorrow, but I have a ton of band stuff going on, so it might be Thursday.