Chapter 58

**Logan**

My eyes widen slightly as she starts "Since Saturday night up until Wednesday he had chained me up in A cupboard and only opened the door so he could hit me," she says looking away from me. Her eyes well up with tears ready to spill and she is physically shaking.

"For the past two years I've had to put up with him attacking me over the most stupid of things," she paused and wiped the tear that had fallen from her right eye.

"How did it start?" I ask.

"I don't know, just one day we were arguing and the next thing I knew he was beating me," she says and then faces me. I give her the smallest smile I can give her and slowly move my hand to hers but she moves it away. "I should probably go," she mutters.

"You can stay, I will get your marks for you" I say "I don't have a lesson until after break," I say. she sighs and rubs her forehead. "I know it's hard for you," I say quietly.

"It started with him just insulting me every now and then," she says, looking down at her lap and fiddling with her fingers. "He'd just make comments about my appearance and sometimes he'd slap me on the back of my head but nothing too serious," she pauses. "You have to understand he is actually ill," she says looking at me. "Do you? Because there is no point in me telling you all this if you don't understand that." She says

"I understand," I say with a small sigh. I don't understand, as there is no reason for what he is doing to her and if he's saying to her that he is ill he is making excuses as to why it is ok.

She sighs and turns to look at me "Everything was fine until a few months after my mom's funeral. We were talking and it soon turned into an argument and he started to blame mom's death on me, and everything he was saying to me made me so angry, so I just finally said what I had been thinking since she died. I told him that it was his fault, if he hadn't argued with her that night she would never have been on the road and she'd be with us now," she pauses and wipes the tears from her cheeks "and he flipped. He started hitting me and he put me in hospital."

"So that time when I saw you it wasn't the first time?" I ask surprised.

"No, it is the third time," she says quietly. "He had broken my nose and a few of my ribs, I had told the hospital that it happened at school from bullies and well they believed me. Plus that is what my father had believed to have happened" she pauses and moves her hair behind her ear "he had no knowledge of what he had done. He kept saying when we got home that he was going to phone the police on the people that had done it and how he is going to sue the school for letting it happen. It is only then I realised there is something wrong with him. It turns out I'm right, he has DID," she states

"What's that?" I ask.

"Dissociative identity disorder also known as MPD which is Multiple Personality Disorder," she explains "he has two personalities one is the one I have known all my life which is Jonathon and the other is Benjamin. Benjamin is the one that takes over when he is violent. Benjamin hates me; it is obvious with the way he looks at me. Everything he does is like a game. The marks on my back are from what he calls a 'game' and I'm losing at the moment," she says concentrating on her lap.

"Why don't you tell me what happened the first time?" I suggested. She let out a small shaky breath.

"He punched me first and as well he's a big guy. I fell to the floor and he started to kick me and I begged him to stop but he wouldn't -Megan slowly starts to cry- he grabbed me by my hair after several kicks and dragged me up to his level. He started shouting at me, calling me all these names and just saying how much he hated me and that he wished Jonathon had never had me. I remember him throwing me into the wall and then he just started hitting me again. It was about half an hour until he stopped and he stormed out of the house just leaving me there. At first I thought I was actually going to die because I was in so much pain but I made myself move and I managed to make it over to your aunt and uncles."

"What?" I ask surprised.

"Don't be angry at them. I told them it happened at school. They had no clue," she explains. I let out a frustrated sigh "are...are you angry at me for going to them?" she asks

"What? No!" I shake my head "I'd never be angry at you" and I give her a small smile. "What happened after you told them?" I ask.

"They phoned an ambulance and while I was having an x-ray they phoned my dad," she pauses and lets out a breath "and when I saw him it was like he didn’t remember a thing. He kept on asking who these people were that had attacked me and stuff it was confusing."

"Ok" I say and move my hand into hers and for the first time since we started this talk she let me hold her hand. "There's more, isn't there?" I state.

"When you said that he raped me, you...you weren't wrong" she stutters "it was the day you had come to our school," she pauses and looks at me her eyes still filling up with tears. "That morning you saw me at starbucks" she states "the night before, it happened." I gulp and stroke my thumb across her knuckles. She looks down at the hand I'm holding "When I came back from school he had beat me and left me in my room and I did what I normally do. Which is to take a shower, tend to any cuts I had and well tend to my depression" I sigh slightly. I really don't like that she cuts and feels like ending everything but I can't blame her. "And then I went to bed and I stayed in bed but I could hear him coming up the stairs and then opening my door."

"Come here," I say, pulling her up and over to me as she is now crying harder. I just want to comfort her. She moves willingly and I move her onto my knee and hug her "you don't have to explain it to me" I state.

She pulls away and sits facing her lap "I have to" she says quietly "because if I don't, I never will,'' she states and lets out the breath she is holding. I sigh and hold her hand tightly "I was laid in my bed trying my best to get to sleep or at least look asleep to him as I thought he was going to start hitting me again. But he didn't, he did exactly the opposite." She says staring into space and frowning slightly.

I gulp down a lump in my throat. In the 23 years of my life I have never been told anything like this. Sure Stephanie told me about her parents but it was never detailed she would never talk about it. She'd act as if it never happened and when I brought it up she'd act as if she didn't know what I'm talking about or didn't hear me.

"He climbed into my bed and put his arms around me and...He...his hands" she stutters. I try to move my hand out of hers to move up to her face to comfort her but she grabbed hold of my hand and pulled it back onto her lap and stared down at my hand.

"Megan" I say, getting her attention. She turns her attention to me. Her eyes are bloodshot and red around the eyelids. Her mascara and eyeliner have run a little making the line of where her tears had run more visible.

"You...you don't believe me," she says looking at me "he said no one would," she says quietly.

"It's not that at all Megan, I just don't want you to force yourself to tell me this," I pause. "I have no reason not to believe you," I state. "I just don't like to see you so upset,"

She smiles slightly and wipes her cheeks with her sleeve "I...I'm not forcing myself" she says looking at my chest "I find it easy to talk to you and surprisingly be near you without being drunk," she sniffles a little as she says that. "You're the only person I trust," she mutters. "I only told Tyler because it is just too much for me to carry, and well I just snapped that day," she says looking back at her lap. "It's different with you though," she says lifting her head slightly and looking at me "I feel myself when I'm with you, and like it never really happened, or it didn't happen to me, so I can talk to you more freely," she says with a small smile and blushing slightly. "That sounds lame doesn't it?" she mutters.

"No," I say and pull her into a hug. She lays her head on my chest and grips my jumper.

"Plus, I feel safe with you," she says more to herself. I smile slightly "is it ok for me to carry on because if I don't, then I'm not ever going to?" she asks.

"Yeah, you can," I say and move her hair out of her face. She slowly sits up and silence lays over us. I keep my hand in hers stroking my thumb over her knuckles as she sits on my knee trying to compose herself.

"I'm sorry," she mutters while looking at my hand.

"Don't be," I say softly, "take your time."