Sixty-two

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Kelsey spinsalot: im fine! Stop worrying.

Pippa isanemoji: kelsey, talk to us!

Anthony diestwice: please!!! We're worried

Daveed hatespierone: no your not! Look, you had more than a week that we didn't bother you.

Jazzy hitshighnotes: kelsey, i found out.

Kelsey spinsalot: how?

Jazzy hitshighnotes: can i send them it?

Kelsey: yeah, I guess. It's not bad though so don't overreact LIN

Jazzy: it's pretty bad

Kelsey withapoof: what is it?

Jazzy: Http://articlethatdoesntactuaklyexist.com/news/emmott

Carleigh withapoof: i'll be there in twenty.

Kelsey spinsalot: dont bother. Im not home and im fine.

I click in the article to see it myself. I never wanna hear my name again at this point but here I am. Reading this.

It says that hes getting out after less than ten years, had good behavior, and that his crime was

George Emmott sexually abused his daughter from the time that his wife passed away to when the young girl was put into the foster care system at the age of ten.

He pledged guilty to allegations that included rape, forcing her to shower with him, whipping, beating, and starving her.

It goes onto talk about the court order and his good behavior and then says

Kelsey would grow up in the foster care system and graduate without being adopted. Claims that Emmott had spent a small time of her life after high school as a prostitute have been made multiple times but no proven. She is now twenty years old; An artist working to get her degree while working in theater and dance and was even an original Broadway cast member of the smash hit show Hamilton: An American Musical.

Wow. They make it seem like I'm not totally struggling with what I had to deal with as a child and they also just gave away all of that to the public. Great. Everyones gonna see me as a prostitute. Not many know about that.

Jazzy hitshighnotes: do they even think about what he did?

Kelsey spinsalot: please stop talking about it.

Jazzy hitshighnotes: okay. We're here if you need anything.

I put my phone down, unable to sit still anymore. I look at myself in the mirror. With a no longer twisted perspective of myself, the reflection reminds me of how sick I still look.

But not long ago I was five foot four and just under one hundred pounds. Tommy pulled me aside and dared to ask me not long after my attempt. Knowing that he was probably pressured into asking and was worried about my reaction to it, I just told him the truth. I was ninety four pounds. I had been performing at one hundred and three. My bmi was under seventeen at my lowest point and below eighteen when performing.

Now, the same hight and back at one hundred and three, which is still underweight even though I'd worked really hard, I stand, staring at the reflection of a girl who hasn't slept or spoken for three days. The girl who's secrets are revealed.

Everyone knows now. The words stung me. I was forced to take showers with him. Written down. Sent to my friends. Sent to the people I had once hoped could move on and stop worrying about me. They won't.

But they know. They can help. But they'll pity me. They'll think of what it's like to be forced to take a shower with a man that was supposed to take care of you. They'll imagine my life. And I can't even speak. I try and I try. Nothing comes out. I'm drowning in my own mind and the further I try to push myself away from them, the more they worry because the deeper I fall within my own torturous mind, distracting myself from the thought that there might never be a ground that I'm gonna hit and shatter. Pushing their attention away from me so that I don't have to look down and see that I am falling in the dark and there is no rock bottom to go up from. Everything is black. The people that I know and the stories that I hear are distractions I'm losing because they turn to me as I fall.

I hate the attention. I want the help, yes, but I'm helpless now and I can't climb up. So instead, the jokes we used to make and the fun we used to have has turned into concern that won't do anyone any good. All it does is upset them, and take away the one distraction I have from this torturous existence.

"That was amazing." Carleigh's voice shoots through my brain, startling me but my body doesn't react. I've been dancing. Choreography I know but can't remember doing. I know I've been dancing because I'm sitting in the floor and my breaths feel heavier, my body tireder, and my heart lighter than if would be after that realization if I hadn't. I pull my leg around, bringing them both to my chest, knowing I have been crying too.

I want to be mad. Though I cry for upsetting others, a bunch of it is me. But maybe Lin has really taught me that sometimes you can cry for yourself. Even if I'll hate myself for it later. I'm crying for the loss of myself and though I knew I'd lost long ago, I now know that I could never stop falling and I want Carleigh here. I want comfort. I need comfort. And that's okay.

I'll only hurt her more if I force her to watch me drown after becoming such good friends with her.

She's at my side in no time. I've been hugged and I have hugged. After fights in the between friends or couples that I know, including the cast, I've been there for them. I feel better knowing how it feels to want the comfort.

She wraps her arms around me and I do the same back, balling her sweater up in my hand without fully noticing it, pressing my head on her shoulder, telling her that I can't do this anymore without actually saying anything.
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A/N- a lot of this comes from me feeling like I focus on Kelsey too much. That's just cause she's fictional and I don't have to worry about getting shit wrong about people as much.

So just to be clear, stuffs going in in the cast and she's been involved in more conflict than just these because conflict happens. But they all worked out.

Welp. I hope I got that across. See you next chapter:)

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