Atlas POV
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I calmed my shaky breaths. I shouldn’t have let myself be so vulnerable. What kind of dumb fucking bitch would do that. Me, apparently.
Resisting the urge to pick up another blade and run, I clenched my fists. Riftyn noticed my reaction, and placed one of his hands onto my thigh.
It didn’t- it didn’t make me want to push him away as I thought I would. Why- why not? Someone clearing their throat brought me back to where we were. “Right- sorry.” I murmured, before glancing up.
Magnus nodded encouragingly. “Can you start from the beginning?”
I exhaled. “Y-yeah”
“So-my father- he -he always wanted two boys. He and my- my mother had my old- older brother and I.” I took in another shaky breath.
“She- my mother I mean, loved us very much- but- but as we got older it didn’t seem like it would be enough.” I narrowed my eyes mentally cursing myself for being so weak. “Fucking stop crying.” I mumbled, and Riftyn squeezed my thigh warningly.
“Don’t say that.” It was a hard tone, and I didn’t need to look to see the grim glances being thrown across the room.
“My father- he wanted us to be strong. Smart. The best. That’s- that’s what my brother always was. Perfect. My father- he- he was involved in some bad things. He taught us to- to be ready for them. To-” I sucked in a another breath, keeping my face from showing anything. “To endure pain- he- he taught us how to endure pain- create it- we- fucking hell it hurt.”
My hands were clamped together in my lap now, almost shaking.
“We had to- to be perfect. My- my brother and I would have to fight each other. It- he would hurt me. And- and every time l lost they- they would-” I squeezed my eyes shut, not daring to release the tears, before looking up again. “They would hold me down. And- and- and hurt me. Tell- tell me I was nothing. They- they said I was useless. I’d never amount to anything that I was- was weak. Both of them. They- they said they loved me though. That it- it was for the best. They- they wanted me to be the best that I- that I could be. I- I failed them thought.”
“My father wouldn’t- he wouldn’t let me eat, either. He- he said I didn’t deserve it. If- if I ate- I’d get beaten- with- with everything. He would- he would draw on me- with a- a knife- and he’d whip me- and- and my brother would- he would watch- he’d- he’d sometimes help- or- or hold me down.”
My voice had almost broke three times by now, and it was taking everything to keep the thoughts and memories out of my head.
“My- my mother- she- she knew. But- she wouldn’t do anything- she’d just-” Riftyn rubbed my back soothingly, and I glanced up. Arlo’s and Colten’s fists were clenched together, and Milo and Niko were holding onto each other, while Cyrus cried into Magnus’s chest.
“Sorry- I didn’t mean- to- to”
“No. Keep going. If you can” Magnus’s tone was stern, but the warm look in his eyes made me nod, ever so slightly.
“They- they hurt me. Every day. For- for everything. For not being strong enough. For eating too much. For talking to them. For crying when they hurt me. I- I was barely alive each time they finished. He- my father- he- he would also bring his friends. But one- one night- they were holding a big party- I don’t- I don’t know why but- I found- I found matches. In the library- I- I had been locked up there. I- I wasn’t thinking straight. I lit it. And- and I dropped it. And everything burned. I just- I just stood there. As the house burned. My- my head was spinning- before I realised I was still in there- I didn’t- I didn’t know if I wanted to leave- if I wanted to live.”
I sucked in another breath, and the world seemed to be spinning around me.
“But- but my father- he- he found me. He threw open the doors- just- just as I was deciding to leave or not- his face- his face was burnt- and- and the hatred in his eyes. He- he just stared at me. Before- before he said his last words- he- he told me- ‘You never meant shit to me. You are a worthless human being. I want you to get the fuck out of my house. I want you to live with your fucked up brain. And I hope you fucking commit suicide because of this you fucking bastard.’Â My voice broke half way through, and I began to dig my nails into my skin, drawing blood. “He- he collapsed after that- and- and I did as I was told- I left. The- the police found me- I- I didn’t tell them anything though- I- they sent me here. Only- only after two months.”
I looked up to see Arlo glaring angrily at the floor. Colten doing the same. “That- thank- thank you, little one.” Magnus sent a weak smile my way, and I took that as my que to leave.
Brushing Riftyn’s hand off my thigh, I sprung up, and almost leapt up the stairs. Fuck. I had said too much. I- they were going to kick me out now. They- they wouldn’t want someone like me.
The blades were in my hands before I even fucking knew it, and the bathroom door was locked. My mind hadn’t even begun to process what was happening. What had happened. But I knew one thing. I wanted everything to go away.
I- I didn’t want to die- I think- not- not- yet. But- I wanted this pain to go- just for a little bit. My heart slowed as the cool metal met my hot skin. I bit back small cries of pain as it dug into me. As it reminded me of what had happened.
Of how useless I was. How I killed them. How I was probably going to end up killing myself. How I was a fucking monster. How I didn’t deserve anything. How the blood running down my side should have killed me by now. How the bandages I already had wouldn’t be enough.
The blade travelled all over my skin, and I could feel myself growing weaker. My eyes let out the tears that had been threatening to fall as I tried to keep my composure. When I told them. That earned one cut.
How I told them everything. Two cuts. How I almost cried. Three cuts. How I couldn’t stop remembering. Four cuts. How they all knew. Five cuts. Fuck this. Six cuts. Seven cuts. Eight cuts. Twelve cuts.
Twelve cuts? When did we get to twelve? Twenty-one cuts. The blood seemed to drown out my thoughts.
The harsh banging on the door didn’t faze me. I didn’t even hear it. Twenty-four cuts. Ah. More. More to ruin my little artwork from last time. But- didn’t the blood look so pretty?
Twenty-six cuts. Why was I counting again? The blood mixed with my tears as it ran down my side, and I grew tired. The blade was thrown back into the draw. Gone. Out of sight. I sunk down onto the floor, head in hands.
Not bothering to look up when the door crashed open. My eyes were glazed over as someone shook my shoulders, crying out for more people. Ah. I was going so well, too. I had been clean. What a shame.
My eyes only began to focus as someone picked me up, moving onto another bed. What? Another bed? Not mine? This- this was Colten’s room, right? Wait. Colten’s room? Colten? Some- someone else. That’s where I was.
Not- not alone anymore. I- what? I looked down at my shaking hands, before processing the hands running up and down my body. Washing the red stains off. Wiping away my tears. Wrapping my sides with bandages. Crying tears of their own.
“Its- its okay- they’re- they’re not deep cuts- they- they’ll heal quickly.” Arlo’s rumbling voice brough back my senses, and my eyes widened. “Shit- I- what? I can’t-“
“Shh. It’s okay. You’re okay now. You’re safe now. We’re here. And we’re never letting you
go.”
I relaxed into the warm touch, ignoring the small stings of pain. I just wanted someone. I believed them. They would be there. I was safe. “We love you so much little one.”
My eyes began to shut before I could process what they had said.
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