Page 29

Sebastian:

I wake up staring at a white wall. But the floor beneath me is plush carpet and I’m warm. A fluffy, turquoise blanket with cheetah print covers my body and I smile, knowing it’s my Lina Girl’s. I must be in her home. I stretch out and wince, not only at how I feel, but how I smell. Then I feel guilty for dirtying Alina’s room. I look over and see that she’s lying in her bed asleep. Last night was hard on us both. She looks like a fucking angel, but I have to pee, and I want to clean myself up. I’m looking through a doorframe and realize I’m inside her closet. My brain still feels fuzzy and slow.

“Alina,” I say quietly, not sure who’s home or what time it is. She doesn’t move. I sigh. She’s so fucking tired, she’s out. I do my best to be quiet, getting up without making a sound. I know where the bathroom is and figure maybe pissing there instead of on her closet floor is a good idea. Cracking her door, I look down the hall before making a beeline, admittedly a slow one in my condition, to the toilet. It feels like fucking heaven as I empty my bladder.

But as I catch sight of my face in the mirror, my heart sinks. Not necessarily because I look like shit. That was going to be a given. But at the fact that my father could do this to me, his only child, and still sleep at night like he deserves it. Like he works hard all day, and that rest is well earned. It isn’t. He makes me sick. And I can’t help but feel like a fucking idiot for thinking that anything was going to be different when I went home this time. I’m zipping up my fly when I hear the knob of the bathroom door jiggle. I scramble away from the entrance. But it’s Alina, looking scared as shit as she pokes her head in.

She shuts the door and locks it before running to me. “ Baby! ” she shrieks as she grabs me in a hug. I use whatever strength I have left to do my best to hug her back.

“Hi, Lina Girl,” I say with a smile as she nuzzles me and kisses me, not even minding the dirt or blood on her clean lips and face.

“C’mon, we need to get you showered. I’m not sure when my parents will be home, so we need to take advantage while we can.” I nod, totally open to being her willing patient.

“I just want to make things easier on you,” I say quietly as she levels me with a stare.

“Don’t ever fucking go back there, Bash.” Her face holds remorse but mostly challenge in her expression. “You deserve to be loved, not… whatever the fuck this is. It’s abuse, actually. It can’t be classified as anything else,” she says harshly. I look away. She’s right, of course, but it’s still hard to hear.

“I’m eighteen. I’ve just been biding my time to get out, Lina,” I defend. She nods, understanding, as she begins to strip me of my clothes. It’s slow going. My entire body aches and as she begins to see more of it, the more mortified she becomes. I’ve always bruised well and this newest encounter with my father is no exception. I’m black, blue and swollen. There’s a splash of purple and some dark red as well. She’s full-on sobbing by the time we get my body into the shower. The hot water feels amazing though. She climbs in with me and helps me to wash myself of all the trauma I’ve endured. I’m grateful. My head hurts and it’s hard for me to lift my arms to wash my hair. It takes over forty-five minutes to get me cleaned up and bandaged again. And by the end of it, I’m falling deeper in love with Alina.

We make it back into her room without being caught. I lie in her bed as she cleans the spot I napped in on the floor of her closet, then proceeds to make a bed for me there, stuffing way too many pillows at the top for my head. But I’m beyond grateful. And when she finishes, she lies me back down before she leaves, going to the kitchen to find something for us to eat.

She comes back with two bowls of Top Ramen and then turns on her stereo so we can listen to music while we eat on the floor of her closet, spooning with each other. I’m in such awe of everything she’s done for me that I have no words to thank her with. I just keep staring at her and wondering why she’s keeping me around when she’s a fucking goddess and has all of this to offer someone who actually deserves her.

My dad fucking attacked her.

What does that say about me and where I come from?