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phoenixmakeswords · 4 years ago

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Behind the scenes of what caused Kai to finally leave his mother.

TW: Rape, human trafficking, CSA, physical abuse, self-harm

My head pounds when I blink my eyes open. Everything hurts. I know I shouldn’t have drunk so much whiskey last night, but I had to do something to get some sleep. I know it’s not healthy, but I don’t exactly have a plethora of resources. Not being what I am.

I can still feel their hands. Scrubbing my skin raw didn’t help. Chopping off my hair didn’t help. I can still feel their hands buried in my hair as they make me gag and choke. The thought alone makes me retch. I hate the men who rented me last night.

“Kai!” my mother shrieks.

That does wonders for my hangover.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I pad into the hall to see what she wants. The house smells like drugs. It’s filthy. I can’t do everything between work and being sold so she can buy drugs. I know it wouldn’t matter if I tried to do better; I won’t ever be enough.

She slams me against the wall.

“They complained about you,” she informs me. “I didn’t get paid as much as I was supposed to because of you.”

“What’d they complain about?” I don’t want to be here. Like, I don’t even want to exist at this point. Why should I keep existing if it’s just gonna hurt?

“Everything. They were extremely unsatisfied, Kai. Do you know what happens now?”

Yeah, I do. I get a beating.

“You’re not touching me,” I snap. I push past her and grab what I need to leave: My work tablet; my phone; my boots; my smokes, and my leather jacket. I’m not coming back.

I sprint to the only person who halfway tolerates me: Eirnin. Running hurts. But I have to. She might chase me.

My lungs throb as I pound their doorbell. I did something to my right ankle hopping over their low fence.

The door swings open to reveal a very grumpy-looking Fae. I probably should have taken my thumb off the doorbell at some point.

“Kai? What’s wrong?” they ask, softening. “Besides you trying to break my doorbell?”

“Can I crash here? I’m sorry. Did I—Were you in the middle of something?”

“What happened? Come in. It’s raining. You woke me up.”

“Do you ever wanna hit me?”

I didn’t realize it was raining.

I hobble inside unsteadily. My ankle hurts. My throat hurts. My everything hurts.

“No. I don’t. I mean, yes, you’re one of the most difficult people I’ve dealt with. But I don’t want to hurt you. What’s going on? Why are you having trouble walking? You smell like whiskey.”

“My mom. She tries. Really. I know she does. I could do better. I know that. I’m…hurt. I hurt my ankle jumping your fence, plus some other stuff. I’m hungover. Can I like move in? Permanently?”

They cock their head at me curiously. They haven’t glamoured their eyes yet. I love the warm chocolate color their eyes are naturally.

“Go sit. Get off your feet. I’ll bring an ice pack for your ankle. Where else are you hurt? As long as you behave,” they sigh.

I slink to their massive leather sectional. Sitting hurts.

“Where else are you hurt?” they repeat, sliding an ice pack under my ankle.

“I was raped, Eirnin.” I hate the ice in my voice. It’s not their fault.

Anger flickers in their eyes for a moment.

“How long ago?” they ask. Their voice comes out strained.

“Last night. It wasn’t the first time.”

“Do you want me to take you to have a rape kit done?”

I nod shakily. I didn’t think they would be kind. Not after how I’ve acted.

“I’m sorry. For everything,” I mumble.

“We can talk when we get home. Let’s get you taken care of, yeah?” They offer to help me up. I refuse. I don’t want anyone touching me.

“Go back with me?” I don’t want to be alone with the doctors.

“Of course.”

Getting up sucks. My ankle throbs and pulses when I try to stand on it. Everything else isn’t helping.

“I’ll put out as often as you want,” I mumble as I follow them to the garage. “Even the stuff I don’t like. I mean, I’m not really that into sex anyway. It’s tolerable with you, but it’s not something I really enjoy.”

They pause to put the ice pack away.

“I’m not expecting you to sleep with me in order to live here. Especially not the stuff you’re not into. I didn’t know you weren’t into it,” they assure me gently.

“So, you’re gonna stand me on the street corner and make me earn my keep that way? I just—It’s meh for me. Like, I get more out of knowing you enjoy it. I just—I’d rather watch a movie or something. I mean, I like getting off. I just prefer to not…have another person involved. Does that make sense?” I sit gingerly in the passenger of their nice white Chrysler.

“No. Kai, is someone pimping you out? It does make sense.” They shut my door for me before getting in the driver’s seat.

“Yeah. Um, you’re going in your pajamas?”

“Your mum? Getting you taken care of is more important. How’s your hangover?” They back out of the garage and down their somewhat long driveway.

“Yeah. She sells me and then beats me if I don’t do well enough. Men, women. Whoever will pay her. Been doing it since I was a kid.” I really need a smoke. “She uses the money for drugs. If I was just better, it wouldn’t be like this.”

“Oh, Kai. I’m sorry you’ve been dealing with that. It’s not your fault, boyo.” They smile gently. “How’s your hangover?”

“I haven’t thrown up.”

“You cut your hair.” They sound surprised.

“It looks bad, doesn’t it?”

“It, um, it could use some help.”

“I don’t want you fixin’ it.”

“Kai, I wouldn’t do anything to you.”

“I don’t want someone with the same…equipment as the people who hurt me touchin’ my head.” I glare but it’s half-hearted.

“Oh. I understand.” They don’t seem mad. Maybe a little hurt.

“I’ll look up videos and figure it out.” I sigh. “I’m sorry. I know you won’t do that.”

“I’m not upset.” They turn at the stoplight.

Anxiety knots my stomach as we get closer to the hospital. I’m scared to be checked out.

I have a panic attack during the exam. I don’t mean to. I know Eirnin probably isn’t happy with me. I know not meaning to is just an excuse and won’t help. I know they’ll probably hit me. I deserve it.

I’m given PeP pills and the number for the counseling center for assault survivors. I don’t know if I’ll call. Why would they help someone like me?

“Kai? You ready to go?” Eirnin asks gently, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Are you his significant other?” the doctor asks.

“Roommate.”

“Ah. Mr. Henderson, no penetrative sex for at least six weeks to give your injuries time to heal. No oral sex for at least three to four weeks to allow the damage to your mouth and throat to heal.”

“Not a problem, doc. Can I file charges?”

Eirnin arches a manicured brow in surprise.

“Yes, of course. I’ll have the cops come out and talk to you.” He smiles kindly before he leaves.

“Am I gonna lose my job?” I ask quietly.

“No, of course not. If you need some time off to deal and recover, it’s not a problem. I don’t expect you to come to work and act like everything is fine when you’re dealing with trauma. Whatever you need to do. Granted, I’m not Adrian, so he might say something different. I already called us both in for today.”

I didn’t expect kindness.

“Thank you.” I try to smile, but it feels mangled and broken. Just like me.

It’s a relief to get back to their place. The cops went with us to get my stuff. As long as they don’t know what I am, they’ll help me.

“You okay?” they ask once my stuff is inside.

“I need to smoke.”

I’m far from fine. I need five minutes to get it together before I break. If I fall apart, I don’t know if the pieces will go back together.

They find me sobbing on the back porch. I feel like I’m drowning in snot. My lungs burn from hyperventilating. I flinch, covering my head defensively. I don’t know if they’re mad. I don’t blame them if they are.

“Kai, give me the cigarette please,” they say quietly. I obey reluctantly.

I didn’t think they would be sadistic. I hold my hand out, palm down. My teeth sink into my lip as I wait for them to put the cigarette out on my skin.

They stub it out in the butt can they set up for me a while back.

“It’s okay. You could’ve—I know I’ve been bad,” I murmur.

“You’re a person. Not an ashtray or a punching bag. Or a sex toy with legs. You don’t need to worry about me hurting you,” they reply firmly. “I was afraid you might accidentally set your hair on fire. That was why I asked for the cigarette. I’m sorry. You’re safe.”

They kneel in front of me.

“I’m sorry. I—I had a panic attack. And—and I can’t—I can’t quit crying,” I hiccup.

“Kai, it’s okay. You’re safe. I’m not upset. I’m not mad. I’m right here.”

They stay until I’m calm. I still wait for them to hurt me.

“Do you want some warm tea?” they offer.

“Can I have some of your fancy Fae tea?”

“Allflower or dream lily?” They hold the door for me.

“Allflower. Gold.”

I like the sweet taste of gold allflower. It tastes kinda like a pear but not a pear.

I settle in at the white marble island. Their cream-colored Frenchie tip-taps around the kitchen happily. She’s so cute.

“Thank you. For doin’ this,” I mumble, tracing the veins in the marble.

“I wouldn’t have let you be homeless. Earl Grey? I’ll get you set up in one of the guest rooms.”

“I figured you’d turn me into a squirrel or somethin’. Yeah. Can I stay in your room? I don’t—Alone isn’t good.” I just got clean. It’s been a week since I last cut. And I wanna throw it away. I need the control. Because my world is just spinning off its axis.

“Will that be good for you mentally? I’m not expecting you to do anything. Okay? You can just exist in peace. How are you doing?” The glance they give me asks what they don’t.

“I don’t know. I know bein’ alone won’t be. I can do other things if you change your mind. I’ve been solid for a week.”

“Kai, no. I don’t want you to put out. Okay? A week is really good!” They set a tea bag on the counter before putting a kettle on to boil.

“I’m offering so you won’t make me miserable. Figured if I didn’t offer, you might just take it. It’s the longest I’ve gone.”

“I’m not a rapist. I’m proud of you!” They grin at me.

“Thank you. I, um, if I bring up a pic of a haircut, do you think you could do it?”

“I’m not a stylist, but I can try.” They smile gently. “So, what happened between us? Things had been good. Really good. You were one of my best friends. We were talking a relationship. I tried to have a bit of fun. What happened?”

I don’t want to explain. I don’t see how it will matter.

“I wanted to dye my hair as a control thing. As a way to get some control over my life. Why do you think I hurt myself? When you played your prank, you were just one more person in my life takin’ my control away. I was hurt and angry. I couldn’t believe you would do somethin’ like that. I felt like you did it to make fun of me. To hurt me. I acted badly. I know that. I wanted you… to leave me alone. I was in love with you. And I figured that maybe you didn’t feel the same way and just wanted sex so that was why you did it,” I mumble, staring at the island. I can’t look at them.

“You could have just told me that. I was in love with you too. I didn’t understand why you suddenly hated me. Kai, your behavior was very hurtful. You were abusive towards me.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t exactly have great communication skills. I’m sorry. Seriously.” I smile uncertainly. “I’m gonna do better. I don’t wanna be her. And I probably need therapy.”

“I noticed. We’re good. Okay? I mean, I don’t trust you, but we can rebuild. I think you do. How are you feeling?” They pour water from the kettle into two mugs. They add a pinch of dried allflower to mine before passing it to me.

“I’m glad. If I can find one who takes screwed-up werewolves, I’ll go. Drained. Broken. Like I got hit by a semi.”

“You wanna lie down and I’ll hold you?”

I don’t cuddle. I think I’ve maybe cuddled with them twice. They love it. It’s one of my least favorite things about sleeping in their bed; they wrap all their limbs around me like an octopus and I can’t move.

“No. I don’t want touched,” I tell them. I wait for some sort of retaliation. Some sort of blow up.

“Then I’ll respect that.”

Yeah, sure. Things like me don’t get respected. Things like me don’t get treated nicely. I’ve been reminded of that fact my entire life.

“You didn’t glamour your eyes.”

“Getting you help was more important than my vanity.” They pick at the chipped maroon polish on one of their nails.

“I like the color of your eyes when you don’t.”

What am I doin’? I wonder, sipping my tea. It’s wonderful.

“You do?” They sound pleased.

I nod. I don’t know how to tell them I could drown in the liquid chocolate pools. I don’t know if I can.

“Maybe when you’re better, we could go out?” They’re trying to sound nonchalant, but they’re tracing the edge of their mug with their pinkie like they do when they’re nervous.

“Maybe. No promises. If I’m good for you.” I’m not good for anyone right now.

“If you’re not, then we won’t. If you need help with your shower or anything, it’s cool. I won’t do anything. I promise.”

“I need you to keep an eye on me. Please. You leave me alone with anything sharp and it ain’t gonna be pretty.”

“I got you.” They smile gently.

I decide to be useful after supper and wash the dishes. They’re outside with their dog. There’s no knives. They even locked the silverware drawer so I can’t get to one.

Lost in my thoughts, I don’t hear them come in until they call my name from behind. I drop the mug I was washing. I watch as it falls in slow motion to the floor, shattering into pieces against the tile.

Crap. Crap. They’re gonna be furious. I’m in so much trouble! Maybe they won’t break any bones, I fret, curling up on the floor. Maybe if I make myself small enough, they won’t hurt me. Ceramic shards slice my palms and my knees, crunching beneath me as I press against the cabinet.

“Kai! You need to get up.” Their voice sounds like they’re underwater. Probably because of the blood rushing in my ears.

They hurry towards me, ceramic crunching under their fancy leather shoes. I whimper as I cower away from them. I hope they don’t kick me. I brace expectantly for some sort of pain.

“Sorry! Sorry!” I whisper.

“I’m not mad. You need to get up.” They reach for my hand and I recoil, bashing my head on the cabinet behind me.

My jeans are damp. Great.

“Oh, Kai. Give me your hand,” they sigh. “You’re gonna hurt your—Never mind. I’m not gonna hurt you, boyo.”

They crouch in front of me. They’re too close.

“I peed my pants,” I whisper.

“Can I help you up?” Their tone is gentle. They don’t seem mad. Their breathing is calm.

I let them help me. I wait to be shoved back into the shards.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur.

I don’t deserve help. They’ll probably beat me once my mess is cleaned up.

“I’m not mad.” They’re being patient.

“Do you want me to go get my belt? It’s fine. I’m used to it. I won’t hate you.”

“No. I’m not beating you. You—I scared you and you dropped a mug. If anyone should be upset, it’s you.” They lead me to the table by my elbow. “Sit. I’ll be right back.”

I obey. I don’t want them to hurt me. I didn’t mean to be bad. It was an accident.

They come back with a broom. My stomach drops. I’ve been beat with a broom before. I won’t be walking for a while after this; they’re stronger than my mother.

“Please. Please don’t. I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” I plead.

“I’m just cleaning the glass up. Did she hit you with a broom?” They keep their tone gentle.

I nod. I’m pathetic. I deserve being beat and kicked and sold. I deserve being screeched at and told how stupid I am. I deserve them beating me.

“Kai, no. I won’t hurt you. You’re safe. I’m not mad, boyo,” they soothe.

I know I’m probably wearing on their nerves. I’ve been here less than 24 hours and I’ve already broken a mug.

“I’m sorry. I’m not tryin’ to be difficult. Or be bad.”

“You’re doing fine, okay? I’ll help you clean up as soon as I’m done sweeping.”

I nod.

Whatever happens, I deserve it.

I flinch as they examine my hands. Their warm, soft hands are gentle as they clean the shallow cuts. My palms hurt.

“I’m sorry. I’m trying to be careful,” they assure me.

“Do you have any fancy Fae stuff you can use?”

“You mean Elven medicine?”

“Same thing.”

“Do I look like I have pointy ears? ‘Sides, Elves are white like you.” They smile teasingly.

“Sorry. It really hurts.” I don’t complain about pain often. The last time I complained before today was when I had my ribcage tattoo done.

“I know. I’m sorry for digging around. I’m trying to make sure there’s no pieces in there. I’ll peroxide them and I have a balm we can use. It’s silver-free. I actually got it just in case you needed it.”

It does something to me knowing they got a special balm in case I needed it. I didn’t think anyone cared that much. I feel special. Shocked. Touched.

“Could I hug you?” I ask.

“As soon as I’m done.”

“How’d you learn this? I mean, it’s not like you didn’t have people in the Court to do this.”

“Willow’s family taught me. Being kicked out means I had to learn to do a lot of things. Not like I can just run to a hospital and have them poke at me. Pretty sure my reaction to steel would freak out a human doc. I need help, I have a couple of Elves on speed dial. I need to see the ones on your legs.”

“Yeah, that would freak them out. I need clean pants anyway.”

I hope they know how much trust this is taking right now.

They don’t comment on the amount of scabbed over cuts as they clean the shallow slices from the mug. I’m trying to remember how to breathe. If they were to do something, I can’t get away right now. I have them in front of me, the linen closet on my right, and the bathroom sink on my left.

They stop touching me.

“Kai, it’s okay. You’re safe. Would you feel more comfortable cleaning them yourself?” they say quietly.

I forgot they can read emotions.

“You’re almost done,” I mumble.

“Do you want me to keep going? Or would you feel better if you did it?” They don’t seem mad.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” I feel like I’m starting to check out. I do that sometimes when I’m really stressed or scared. It happens a lot during sex, especially if I bottom. Or if I’m trying to give someone with a penis oral. Even Eirnin, and they’ve been nothing short of kind and gentle with me.

They wait until I feel calmer to ask again.

“Um, I’d be less stressed if I did it,” I whisper.

They press the warm washcloth into my hand with a smile before standing.

I didn’t think they would be nice to me.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“No. Kai, it’s okay. I’m gonna get the salve out, okay?”

If I can believe they’ll keep being good to me, I’d love to stay here forever.

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #my writing #contemporary romance #oneshot #broken wings and dragon dreams

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