thirty-two

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Tuesday.
Skylar.

I woke up to cramps, which told me one thing.

I started my period.

I could've cried. I got up, seeing that it was five in the morning, making me even more annoyed.

I tried to fight through my cramps for a good ten minutes, but I eventually gave up, grabbing clothes and going downstairs silently, trying not to wake up the guys.

I went to our guest bathroom- starting a bath, thankful that they had a bathtub.

As the water ran I went into the kitchen, digging through the medicine cabinet, eventually finding Midole.

I took two, leaving the box on the counter, knowing I'd be back for more in four hours.

I put bath salts in the water- trying anything to help relieve the pain I was feeling.

I started a Netflix show on my phone, getting into the almost boiling hot water, but not caring because I knew it would give me relief.

I stayed in the bathtub for about thirty minutes until I was sick of it, and I got out, drying off and putting on shorts and one of my soccer shirts, adding socks to it.

I opened the door, letting the steam air out as I crawled onto the bathroom counter, braiding my hair into two Dutch braids slowly.

As I braided one down beside my neck, I saw one of the almost yellow bruises on my neck.

They were all a light yellow color, fading to nothing, but I still knew they were there.

I ran my fingers over it, letting myself think about the situation.

Why didn't I lock the door?

I knew I was in an unfamiliar house with unfamiliar people, why didn't I just lock my damn door?

I was just fucking stupid.

I braided the other half of my hair, putting moisturizer over my face before going back to the hickeys.

I pulled the collar of my shirt away, looking to the five fading bruises scattered across my collarbones.

And I actually thought about everything.

I thought about the sound of my door opening

The feeling of him sitting on my knees to where I couldn't move

Him forcing my hands above my head- myself hating that I couldn't get my hands away with from him

I felt so weak.

The feeling of his hand grabbing my boobs- the first time that ever happened to me

The feeling of his lips pressing down on my neck forcefully

His teeth pulling at my skin

The feeling of my throat hurting as I screamed for anyone to help me, but no one helped me

I felt a tear slip down my cheek, making me tell myself that I needed to stop thinking about it

But then I thought about the feeling of his lips pressing against my hip bone.

The thoughts that flew through my head- myself just knowing that this man was going to rape me.

Feeling him switch to just one hand holding my wrists, but yet he was still so damn strong.

Feeling his cold hand run the whole way down my body, until they reached my waistband of my shorts

"Sky?" Calum's voice brought me out of my thoughts- making me immediately wipe my eyes.

"Yeah" I quickly cleared my throat, praying my eyes didn't look red as I turned to look at him.

I could tell by the way his face softened that he knew.

"What's wrong?" He asked me.

"Started my period" I mumbled, turning away from the mirror to where I could get off of the counter.

"Let's get your come medicine-" "I took Midole already" I told him, watching him nod.

"Let's get you a heating rag and watch a movie" he suggested, making me nod.

I held his hand as I followed him- wanting to be close to him.

I watched as he grabbed two heating rags from the same cabinet in the kitchen, before giving me a nod.

I grabbed two blankets as I followed him back into the living room, where we set up spots on the couch, Calum positioning the heating rags on my back and stomach for me, myself leaning on his shoulder, holding his arm as he turned on Atypical.

"Why am I so embarrassed to talk about it?" I asked him slowly, knowing he would know what I was talking about.

"Because that's what society makes it out to be" he mumbled.

"Rape and non consensual activities are so pushed away and ignored now, people even make jokes about it. It makes people who really go through it feel as if it doesn't matter or as if it isn't a big deal" he spoke slowly.

"And I know you're blaming yourself a lot, even though it's completely not your fault" he spoke calmly, kissing my forehead.

"But we understand why you're embarrassed, and we're not rushing you to talk about anything" he told me.

"Because it's traumatic, it was scary for you, you were very vulnerable and you still feel vulnerable and you also most likely don't want to talk to your dad and all of your uncles about a man touching you without consent, and we understand that" he told me, squeezing me tightly.

"But I need you to know that you won't be judged, there will be no jokes, if you just want to tell us and we say nothing in return, we can do it that way, if you don't want to tell us at all- we also respect that. It's your body, it's your story. You're running this princess"

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