Title Credit & Song: Poison by All Time Low
Amelia~
Glancing down at Oli's now exposed arm, my eyes widened once I saw that what wasn't inked skin, was covered in dark purple bruises. Oli must have caught my gaze because he quickly pulled down his sleeves, a panic look overcame his features. I scooted closer to Oli and hesitantly grabbed his arm.
Oli jerked away, "Don't." He said, his voice laced with fear rather than anger. Sighing, I bit my lip, holding back the many questions that were now wondering in my mind. Oli didn't speak, I could see his eyes became glossy and he looked down at his lap. He nervously fidgeted with his fingers, obviously waiting for me to say something.
Finally, I decided to ask the question that seemed most important. "Oli, who did that to you?" I asked, my voice barely audbile. I knew he was being bullied at school but something inside my head was screaming at me, telling me that those bruises didn't come from some kid at school. My stomach dropped and I felt like I was going to be sick.
Even though Oli said he doesn't want to be around me, that doesn't mean I don't care about him. If anything is going on in his house, I need to do something about it.
Oli sighed, "I can't tell you." He whispered, I could hear the pain in his voice and it absolutely killed me to see him hurting.
"Why? Why can't you tell me, Oliver?" I questioned, holding back the tears that had now formed in my eyes.
Oliver bit his lip, also trying to hold back tears. "I can't tell you because... he'll... he'll hurt you." He whispered the last part.
I grabbed his hand and forced him to look at me. "Who?" I asked, "Who is going to hurt me, Oliver? Tell me." I pleaded, wanting desperately to know who was hurting Oliver. I want to know who's hurting him so I can put a stop to it. I don't like seeing people hurt, especially not someone who I care about.
Oliver closed his eyes, obviously contemplating on whether he should tell me or not. A couple of minutes passed by before Oliver finally decided to speak, "My father..." He trailed off, sighing heavily. "He um, he causes the bruises. Whenever he gets pissed or angry, he takes out his emotions on me." Oli let out a shaky sigh.
His hands trailed down to the hem of his shirt, he carefully lifted the fabric up, exposing his stomach and chest. More tears formed in my eyes once I saw the many bruises on his stomach and chest. Without realizing what I was doing, I wrapped my arms around Oliver and pulled him into a tight embrace.
Oliver rested his chin on my shoulder, which was now becoming wet with his tears but I didn't care. Hesitantly, Oli wrapped his arms around my waist and I pulled him closer. If I had known that his father was abusing him sooner, I would have done something before. I can't bare the thought of Oliver having to live with such a terrible person.
The thing is, I knew Mr. Sykes from my childhood. He always seemed like such a kind man. He was always smiling, laughing and joking with us about silly things. Even at a young age, I was able to see that his relationship with Mrs. Sykes wasn't the best. I knew that sometimes, they had small fights in public or in their home. I remember the one time Oliver told me that his father was beginning to grow abusive.
~Flashback~
I was walking towards the same park Oli and I had met last year. Despite him being a jerk to me, I still hang around him and do whatever he tells me to do. Today, he had called me house and asked my mother if I was able to meet up at the park. Thankfully, my mother agreed in letting me go see Oliver for a little while.
Once I reached the familiar, nearly empty, park, I noticed a familiar figure sitting on the swing set, their back facing me.
"Oliver!" I called out but he didn't turn around. An annoyed sigh escaped my lips as I began making my way towards him. I honestly didn't want to be here. The air was cold, I was wearing this stupid dress my mother forced me to wear and I just wanted to go back home but my mother told me that something was wrong with Oliver. I, being the person that I am, decided to just come here and check up on Oliver, just to make sure if he was alright.
As soon as I was only a couple of feet away from him, I noticed that his body was shaking and he was sobbing quietly. "Oli?" I asked, making no attempt to hide the panic in my voice. "Oli, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" I questioned. I placed my hands on his shoulders and forced him to look at me.
Oli sniffled, he wiped some of the tears that were staining his cheeks with the sleeve on his sweater. "M-My d-dad he, um, h-he h-h-hit m-mum." He struggled to say. Despite his stuttering, I was able to hear him clearly. Without hesitation, I wrapped my arms around Oli and hugged him tightly. I've tried hugging Oli before and he usually ends up pushing me away but not this time, he didn't pull away this time.
"Shh, Oli. It's going to be okay. Everything is going to be fine." I cooed, trying my best to calm him down.
~End Of Flashback~
"You're staying with me tonight, Oliver." I announced, still holding onto him as if my life depended on it. I didn't want to send him home. I mean, how could I? How could I send him home, knowing that he was going home to some monster? I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I did that.
Oliver sighed, "I can't-" He began.
"No," I said, cutting him off before he was able to continue, "I am not letting you go home. How could I live with myself, knowing that you're in danger? No, you're not going home. You're staying here. Please, Oliver." I finished.
Pulling away from my hold, Oli looked at me and sighed. "What about your dad? What is he going to say about his seventeen year old daughter having an eighteen your old guy staying with her? Do you really think he's going to let me stay here?" He questioned.
I already knew the answer to his question. There was no way in Hell my father was going to let a teenage boy stay with me in my room. Suddenly, an idea popped up in my head. There was no way he was going to let a boy stay with me but... he can't do anything about it if he doesn't know, right?
A devious smile spread across my lips, "He doesn't have to know." I replied.
Oliver chuckled lightly, "So you're willing to lie to your father and hide me in your bedroom?" He asked.
I nodded in response, "I'll do anything to keep you from going home." I answered. It was the truth. I don't want Oli going back home and I wont let him get hurt again. There's no way in Hell I'm going to let that happened. I care way too much for him.
Oli sighed, "Fine." He gave in, "Where am I going to sleep?"
I shrugged, "You can sleep in my bed." I replied.
Oli's eyes widened slightly, "Are you sure?" He asked but before I was able to answer, I heard a car door slam shut from the outside. I glanced over at the clock and my breath caught in my throat once I saw that it was already twenty minutes passed eight.
I grabbed Oli's hand and practically sprinted upstairs, Oli struggling to keep up with me. As soon as we reached my bedroom, I heard the front door open and my father call out my name. I quickly shoved Oli into my closet and hurried back downstairs. By the time I had reached the bottom step, I saw my father taking off his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack.
"Hey." I greeted, trying to hide the fact that I was practically out of breath.
My father looked up at me and smiled, "How was your day?" He asked as he kicked off his shoes. He seemed exhausted, not something I wasn't used to. Everyday, my father comes home, completely worn out and exhausted from work. Usually, I would have cooked him something to eat but seeing as I was a little 'busy' earlier, I didn't have time to make anything.
I shrugged, "It was fine. Sorry, I was so caught up in studying that I didn't have time to cook anything." I apologized.
My father chuckled, "Don't worry, Amelia. I don't expect you to cook for me every night." He smiled, "How about we order some pizza, instead?" He suggested.
I nodded in agreement and reached for the phone. I dialed the pizza parlor's number and order one large pizza, making sure that half of it was vegetarian. Oli had told me that he was vegetarian and I doubt he's eaten anything besides the lunch I had given him earlier. I, of course, wasn't planning on eating that disgusting, greasy mess but my father doesn't know that I plan on giving me half of the pizza to Oliver.
"You like vegeterian?" My father questioned, raising an eyebrow at me. He sat down on the couch and turned on the televison, switching to some news channel.
I shrugged, "Yeah, I had a veggie pizza at school and I loved it." I lied, not once since I've arrived at Stocksbrige, have I eaten the school's lunch nor do I plan on eating their lunches anytime soon.
My father nodded, "Alright, I'll call you down when the pizza arrives." He told me before turning his attention back to the news programming.
If there was anything I disliked about my father, it had to be that he was distant. I know he loves me and I know he's exhausted from work but he never tries to have a full conversation with me. Our conversations usually go like this one. He asks me how my day went, I reply and then he turns his focus to whatever he has set out in front of him.
It's not like I expected any different. Even when my father lived with us in Australia, he was a very distant person, even with my mother. I guess that's one of the main reasons why they divorced. They never really communicated with each other and I could see that, even at a young age.