Chapter 212
"You got it," he replied, and I chuckled to myself before Layla and I made our way up to her room. Once we were inside, she shut the door and brought us over to her bed.
"Okay, so what's up?" She asked once we're were both sitting on top of it, facing each other.
Layla was really the only person I felt comfortable telling. I told Asmodeus because my soul needed to if it didn't want to collapse, but not because I necessarily wanted to.
"When they brought me into the hospital, I had bruises all over me, and they thought that they were accidentally self inflicted," I started, looking down and stumbling over my words a bit. "But they weren't." She was looking at me intently as I continued.
"I don't know if anyone ever told you about him, but when we were all in high school there was this boy who clearly has some dangerous undiagnosed mental illnesses, and he believed that I ruined his life by taking his friends away from him- even though it was obviously his fault because he tried to... have his way with me and the guys obviously didn't let him," I told her, and her eyes widened a little.
"His name is Milo, and um, he uh," I paused, feeling myself start to shake a little bit as I tried to suppress the memories violently resurfacing. "And when I was drunk he stumbled upon me and..." my voice trailed off into a sad whisper, not able to finish the sentence.
When I looked up and met her eyes, though, I knew that she immediately knew what I couldn't bring myself to say. Tears were in her eyes as she pulled me into a hug. I hugged her back.
Asmodeus once told me that hugs feel better when they're from people who know what it's like to truly need them... and Layla's hug made me feel as though she knew what it was like to need hugs even more than Asmodeus did. She knew exactly the kind of dead weight and heavy sorrow I was carrying with me because of what happened, and as we sat there hugging, our souls sort of felt as one.
When we eventually pulled away again, she held my hands comfortingly and looked over my face sympathetically.
"I'm so sorry," she told me, and I knew she meant it from the bottom of her heart. I knew she never wanted to see anyone go through what she did, but here she was anyway.
"I'm scared," I told her, some tears falling from my eyes. She nodded, understanding perfectly.
"Do you know what you want to do?" She asked gently, and I shook my head.
"I want to report it, and I want him to rot in jail... but I don't want to have to keep talking about it and having to prove that I'm telling the truth. It already is haunting me enough without everyone in my world focusing in on it and other people doubting me or shaming me. I didn't fking ask for this. I just want it to go away like it never happened," I cried, and she nodded again, a tear of her own falling down. "I feel eternally violated, and lost... like I'm trapped in a cage I didn't walk into."
"I understand completely," Layla spoke, also a bit emotional. "That's exactly how I felt. How I still feel."
"How did you move forward? How did you put it in your past?" I asked her, taking one of my hands out of hers to wipe off some of my burning tears.
"I never did, to be honest. I still live with it every day," she admitted, a few tears falling of her own. "I still get the nightmares, and I still can't do certain things or think of certain things without getting overwhelmingly triggered. Layla Stewart died when it happened, and ever since then I've just been trying to bring her back to life and be her again. I know that she'll be again some day, though, and I guess that's what keeps me going. Everything passes with time," she went on, and I stared at her deeply, her words really resonating with me.
Everything passes with time..
I had told myself that a lot throughout the years when I was in various anxious situations. I had always found the idea that we were chained down to time as it continuously moved forward to be very comforting for some reason.
"Does it stop hurting so much?" I choked out.
"I don't really know," she answered honestly. "But you have us to help ease any of the pain. I don't think it's that it goes away, but rather it starts to feel lighter because you grow stronger and stop constantly feeling yourself carrying it," she explained her thoughts, and honestly felt as though she was speaking to my soul.
"Does my brother know?" She asked, and I nodded.
"I told him in the hospital. I just know that it's absolutely crushing him inside," I replied.
"There's nothing you can do about that, though," she reminded me, and I realized she was right. "Focus on yourself," she told me, and I nodded. She brought me in for another hug.
"I hate that this happened to us. So much," she said into my shoulder as I cried silently into hers.
"Me too," I brought myself to say.
"We have each other though. Even if my brother is ever a jack-a-ss, we'll have each other," she told me, rubbing my back comfortingly. "You're the sister I never had." I smiled when she said this.
"Shut up. You're gonna make me cry even more," I laugh-cried, and she laughed as well.