Chapter 29

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Tw for this chapter: Rape, abuse, vomiting, drugging, blood, injuries, possible triggering of derealization

Note: Please be very careful with this chapter, it gets heavy.

"He some how got my number and he texted me and called me and left a voice mail." Tommy explained and Phil nodded.

"Can I ask about what he did? Or are you not ready to talk about it? It's fine if you're not." Phil asks and Tommy nods.

"Yeah just," He turned around to look at Wilbur and Techno for a moment, making sure they both were asleep. "Don't tell Tech and Wil, it's not that I don't trust them it's just I don't want them to keep finding out about what happened. Shit happened in my life and the less they know the better. You saw how Wil reacted to hearing about that one house." Tommy sighed and Phil nodded.

Wilbur's break down.

"I won't tell anyone, I promise." Phil tells him and Tommy nods.

"I don't think even Puffy knows what I'm about to say. This was just one of the houses where police found me, then gave Puffy the brief overview." Tommy admits and Phil nods. "I was about 12? 13 maybe. Those ages just kind of blend together. It was an awful time of being drugged and shit." Tommy explains.

Phil felt his heart break slightly, what had happened to Tommy?

"But I was moved to this new house, single guy and one other foster kid. Foster kid was younger than me, and I didn't see him too much. We were kept in separate rooms, locks on the wrong side of the door. And I knew the house was fucked as soon as Puffy said single guy with one other foster kid but it's what she could do." Tommy sighs.

"Did you think our house was fucked?" Phil interrupts and Tommy looks over at him.

"No. The difference was you're a single dad with two adopted kids in collage, this guy was a single guy with a foster kid who can't make any choices for himself. There's a difference." Tommy explains and Phil relaxes for a bit. "But he kept us in different rooms, locked from the outside. There was no windows, there was no furniture, there was nothing. No way out." Tommy shuddered at the memory.

"You don't have to talk about this if you don't want to Tommy. I just want to remind you of that." Phil interrupted again and Tommy nods.

"I'll be okay Phil, promise. So he kept us in there, and I could hear the kid in the room next door, hear him scream for long time. Didn't know what was happening till David came to my room. He would fucking hit me and shit, he's the reason why I have the scar running down my side. And at first it was just hitting, kicking shit like that." Tommy took another deep breath.

He fucking hated David with every bit in his body.

"Then it got to drugging me. I don't know if he had already been drugging the other kid but he started drugging me. And at first I would try to throw up the drugs, but he didn't feed us enough for me to really throw shit up. So it would just be bile and shit. Eventually I stopped trying because I felt like I couldn't. I felt like I couldn't do anything." Tommy felt his eyes start to fill with tears.

"Do you need to take a break?" Phil questioned but Tommy just shook his head. He grabbed his bottle of water and took a long sip.

"I'm fine. I'm fine." He took another deep breath. "after he would drug me he began to rape me. Would take me out of the room with a blindfold on, to some other room with a bed and he would rape me. It wasn't the first time it happened to me but it doesn't make it less shit."

Tommy noticed how Phil's hands on the steering wheel grew white as he held on tighter.

"And then he would take me back to the room. If he thought I was good he would give me food and shit. If he thought I wasn't he would leave me in the room for days on end, alone. I heard nothing but screams of the kid in the next room over. Then one day his case worker came to visit. Apparently the guy skipped out on the doctor's appointment for the kid, but since he had some condition of some sort she had to come visit. She called the police and they took us both out of there. Never saw the kid again." Tommy explained and Phil nodded.

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