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His eyes meet mine, and I don’t recognise him—see any glimmer of the lad I grew up with.
He screams, sounding so crazed, I fear for my life. He doesn’t sound human. I feel paralysed, which is why when he kneels over me, his fists hitting me in every place possible, all I can do is shriek my pain into the night. Every punch feels like torture, like someone’s stabbing me with a hot poker.
When darkness begins to pulse around the edges of my vision, I close my eyes, no longer crying out as he lands blow after blow to my body.
“Hey, what’s going on back here? The party’s over; you need to go home.”
Banner.
I try to blink my eyes open, but they won’t obey my silent command, my eyelids feeling swollen. I’m cold, and I can no longer feel the dress on my body.
“What the fuck?” Banner roars, and the weight of Darren on top of me, pressing me down into the grass and mud, is suddenly lifted.
My head rolls to the side, and through tiny slits, I watch as Banner punches Darren over and over.
What seems like hours later, I feel something warm cover my body, the scent of aftershave, strong with a mix of spices, making me feel safe.
A warm hand lifts mine from the cold, damp ground and grips it gently, as if afraid anything more will hurt me.
“Emma, it’s Banner. It’s going to be fine. I’ve called for an ambulance and the police are on their way,” he announces gently in my ear.
My heart wants to believe him, it truly does, but as I lay on the frigid grass, shivers racking through me, I know nothing will ever be the same again.
CHAPTER TWO
I don’t even recognise the girl staring back at me in the mirror. Two weeks ago, my cheekbones had stood out in stark relief; my thick, brown hair had hung limp down my back, the strands the texture of straw; and my eyes had been swollen, dull and tired, with dark circles beneath. I had been weak, my body near skeletal.
Now, my cheeks have filled out, a healthy pink tinge to them. My hair is shiny and sleek, and my blue eyes, looking greener today, are sparkling with life—something I haven’t felt in a long time.
Months ago, I decided to move out of my parent’s house, away from their malicious and cruel words.
I was suffering with depression, not only from being attacked, but from losing my sister. Finding her body after she had overdosed became my undoing. I changed that day, not only after finding her but… from having to live without her. She was the cheese to my toast, the sausage to my mash. She was everything to me—even if in the last few months of her life she had become distant. She had been older than me, but not by much, since my parents had me eleven months after Lara.
My parents had loved her more. A lot more. It never bothered me because I had my friends; I had my grandparents who loved and adored me.
After she died, my parents made sure to let me know every chance they got that they wished it had been me. It didn’t matter that Lara took drugs of her own free will, only that it wasn’t me who had died.
I hated them—I still do. All my life I had tried to get them to love me, but I was a mistake, something they never planned for or wanted—and couldn’t get rid of.
For two years their damning words ate away at me, leaving me a shell of the person I once was.
But then, one day, I got news that my best friend, Lake, was alive. She hadn’t died, like I always feared, but ran away, escaping the accident she thought she caused. She’s happy now, with a new family as well as back with her own. And is even in love.
From that day, I built myself up the best I could to give me the strength to leave the house. I went to my psychiatrist every week and started taking medicine.
With the help of my grandparents, my cousin, and the money I made from self-publishing books, I was able to move out.
The only thing my parents hated about me leaving was that I was taking their person to blame for their favourite daughter’s death away from them. They screamed, shouted, made sure to tell me until they were blue in the face that I’d be back, but would never be welcome.
I wouldn’t.
I’d never go back.
They helped destroy the girl I once was, but with months of intense therapy, I’ve finally managed to say goodbye to her and welcome the new me.
I still have a way to go before I’m fully recovered. I still suffer with insomnia, and when I do manage to sleep, I have nightmares from the night my sister died, to the night I was attacked by my best friend’s boyfriend.
Another person who has been huge help in my recovery is Banner. George Banner. Though we never really spoke in school, we become really close after the night I was attacked by Darren. I couldn’t have gotten through everything if he hadn’t been there, supporting me every step of the way.
