I showed her the guest room, setting her stuff down for her.
She sat on the bed, criss crossed and patted in front of her.
I laughed lightly before moving to sit in front of her.
"I'm going to need your help" she spoke slowly, making confusion take over
"With what-" "I'm going to tell you everything" she mumbled.
"But I need you to not judge me and I need you to help me control my anxiety" she spoke calmly.
"You don't have to tell me right now-" "I need to." She spoke, almost begging to tell me exactly what I wanted to hear.
"Okay" I whispered.
"If it gets too much, just stop" I spoke, seeing her slowly nod, blinking slowly.
"Don't think differently of me-" "I would never Mila, I promise"
She nodded slowly, looking to our hands before clearing her throat.
"It started when I was around three" she spoke quietly.
"I was too little to understand what was going on, but basically my parents would sell pictures of me as a naked baby to older men who liked it" she spoke so slowly and calmly, never looking to me as my heart broke for her.
"As I grew up, this continued, and it raked in so much money both of my parents were unemployed, but completely supported by selling naked pictures of me" she spoke, clearing her throat again.
"As I got older, I started getting self conscious and I started not wanting to do it, I started refusing, which caused them to both blow up"
"For a little bit, they just basically held me down and got the pictures, but the money dropped a lot because I was fighting so much that the pictures were blurry, so they knew they had to figure something else out." She spoke quietly.
"So, they got the idea of drugging me" she spoke, finally looking to my eyes.
"Hence why I have scars on my arms and why I hate needles"
"All day, everyday for almost five months I was drugged." She spoke bluntly.
"And they got the pictures they wanted, everything was great for them."
"I don't exactly remember much, I don't remember thinking about how miserable I was, I just slept a lot, I would sit up and they would force food down my throat, stumble to the bathrooms, throw up, cry and sleep again"
"And I actually don't remember much from the day it stopped, but I know the story" she spoke, giving my hand a little squeeze.
"Someone had informed the police of the child pornography and somehow the police tracked everything down to my dads phone, which led to my house" she spoke, taking a deep breath.
"When they found me I was twelve, I weighed ninety two pounds, I had no nutrients in my body, they said they were shocked when I stood up by myself. I was apparently so drugged that I couldn't even speak, I just stared into space" she told me calmly as I rubbed my thumbs over her knuckles.
"They of course arrested my parents, got all of the pictures deleted and arrested some of the people who bought the pictures. I was taken to a rehab center, because I had been drugged so long that I was actually addicted to the drug" she spoke, breaking my heart even more.
"And I honestly think that was the worst thing I remember, I had stitches in the crooks of my arms, I went through all of the withdrawals, I had no one, the nurses weren't sympathetic, an older woman who was a volunteer was the only person who cared" she mumbled.
"Once I was clean, and they cleared me, I was immediately thrown into the system, where I moved from foster house to foster house for almost four years before Blake and Griffin adopted me." She mumbled.
"And I had promised myself the minute I left the woman at the rehab center that I wouldn't trust anyone. I said I wouldn't speak, I'd never fall in love, id never even show someone that I cared about them." She spoke, looking to me.
"And you come into my life for like two weeks and I'm spilling my life tragedy to you"
