Her eyes

Chapter 48

I didn't want to leave this room, I didn't want to face him. I've locked myself in here for the past hour, and now I was too scared to leave. I had tried to clear my head as much as I could by painting my nails with Kimberly's blue nail polish. I had plaited my hair in two. I had even refolded all of Kimberly's clothes because I didn't want to think about anything.

That Archer kept bringing it up was only ruining it, all the progress I'd made in convincing myself that everything was fine. I knew that he had good intentions but he didn't understand my perspective. The girl who had attacked me wasn't much different than the girls in my town.

It was usually Tom, Jerry, Liam and sometimes Joe that were my main tormentors. But sometimes the girls would have a go too. After the incident when Tom spread those horrid rumors about me. His on and off again girlfriend Patricia and her friends all made a plan to corner me. We were all in the same year, and up to that point the girls had only offhandedly comments about my appearance.

When Leo had done what he did to me, I hadn't come to school for a week. Hoping it would be enough time to heal. When Patricia hadn't found me at school she somehow got my number, at the time I was using a flip phone I had found at home. She texted me and told me that she had planned to beat me and cut off my hair. She even got her friends to go along with it. And they all spent the week terrorizing me to me the point where, I turned my phone off and spent those seven days with a constant lump in my stomach.

In truth I had been scared, and I had no one to turn to. But I had still been absent for far too long and when Monday rolled around again they enacted their plan. They cornered me by the lockers. I tried telling her I hadn't touched Tom but she didn't want to hear it. Her and her 3 friends ended up attacking me, pulling my hair and shoving me to the ground, I tried fighting them off but it clearly didn't do anything.

Thankfully my English teacher interrupted them, and sent everyone off to class. I was left lying on the floor, clumps of my hair ripped out and deep scratches on my face. The most embarrassing thing had been the fact that a lot of kids had filmed the whole ordeal and spread the videos across town.

I think I'd become so desensitized from violence that five gashes from a lone drunk woman on my face weren't a big deal to me. I felt like Archer was exaggerating. And to be honest I didn't have it in me to file a report or do anything about it. Or explain it to Archer, I know I was being unfair towards him bu- A knock came from the door.

"I made some lunch I'll leave tray here for you, if you want it." Archer deep voice sounded even deeper behind the heavy slab of wood. When I didn't answer I heard him sigh.

I approached the door but I didn't open it, "can we go to the cave again?" I asked in a whisper through the door. I hadn't expected him to hear me but he did.

"Only if you eat." I rolled my eyes knowing he couldn't see me.

"Okay," I agreed and opened the door slowly, he was standing there in just his sweatpants his pale chest on show. No matter how many times I saw him half naked he still managed to chock me each time. A tray of food and a glass of water was placed on the floor in front of him.

He still treated me as good as he did everyday despite being mad at me, a feeling I knew all too well arose in me. Guilt. "I'm sorry," I said softly my eyes still on the tray.

"I just want to understand," his voice was equally as soft.

"You can't because I haven't told you everything." I hesitated, " I want to tell you, but..."I shook my head,  I've been struggling with telling him everything for the past month mostly because he deserved to know, but also because I wanted him to know all of me. And he couldn't do that if I constantly hid parts of me. I thought maybe it would be best if I tell him at the cave, because it brought me peace. But now that I thought about it, it was a long drive and what if he was so horrified by me that he would leave me there.

At least here I could take the buss home if he decided to kick me out. I sighed, "can we go downstairs?"

Archer took my hand and led me to the sofa, and I cherished every second of his big warm hand holding mine, because I felt like this may be the last time.

When we were sat, my back straight and my hands tucked between my legs, Archers body facing mine his forearms resting on his spread knees. I started, "I think I should start from the beginning." Not only because he deserved my honesty, but I was also tired of having to avoid him, knowing why I reacted in certain ways.

So I told him everything from my mother, to my brother, to being bullied at school. The only thing I didn't tell him was about my own abuse against myself, mainly because it was too shameful and because I hated myself even more for being weak and letting them do this to me.

I hated that my razor was my only friend, I hated that it had been my escape for so long. But mostly I hated that I had enjoyed it. That I looked forward to it, that it had become the only highlight of my day. How sad is that?

When I was done with telling him my life's story (excluding the most humiliating of moments and downplaying how many times I'd actually been beaten) the sun had set and he still hadn't said a word. I hoped he could read between the lines and see why last night hadn't fazed me. I started pulling at my cuticles my eyes glued to my lap.

I let a few moments pass in the continued silence, "say something," I urged him.