"ɪᴛ ᴏɴʟʏ ʜᴜʀᴛꜱ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ɴᴏᴡ, ʟᴏꜱᴛ ɪɴ ᴀ ʟᴀʙʏʀɪɴᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴍɪɴᴅ."

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

*Trigger warning: Child abuse, and descriptions of emotional violence / physical violence*

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Click. Delete.

Delete Instagram.

Delete Snapchat.

Delete Revolut.

Delete VPN Free.

Delete Spotify.

Clear. Private mode tabs.

App Store - Sign Out.

Settings - Wallet. Remove Revolut card.

It's a repeated process. It's something I do every day. I download them in the morning before I leave for school and I delete the apps that I can't have my mom see in the evening. It frightens me so much, that one day she sees anything, any trace of these on my phone, I would be in the deepest trouble possible.

Walking home, I was greeted by the tranquility of the Hedge Row and the Garden. Everything there felt so alive, beautiful, and free. Free, to reach the heights or fall to the ground. I sometimes wished I could whisk myself away and imagine I was someone else.

I finished early, and it was still bright when the sun was hiding behind those pastel clouds. It was 4, and I didn't have to be home until 5:30. It was still the start of Fall, and the leaves were slowly turning amber, although some trees were still green, reminding me of the summer that I had not spent in Connecticut.

I sat on the creaky wooden bench that had a memorial plaque embedded in it.

Aria James - Born 15/12/2006; Died 03/07/2011

"I joyfully awaited the exit – and I hope never to return"

I looked away, forgetting the mysterious Aria James and her mysterious life. Forgetting isn't the right word. Ignoring, perhaps. My bag lay next to me on the isolated bench and I opened it before closing it again.

I sped out of the park and walked in the direction of my house.

I was home earlier than usual, which meant that I could maybe get more work done tonight and get some sleep as well. However, that all depended on my mom's mood, and what she was going to tell me to do. I was trembling, not from the cold, as I made my way to the front door.

I hesitated when I felt my heart clench in my chest. What if she was still mad at me? Yesterday, she was bearable. Today...

I knocked on the door three times, scratching at my fingernails and biting my lip. I did it subconsciously and I stopped entirely when I saw her silhouette through the distorted glass windows on the side of the door.

As the door slid open, the harsh bright white light of the hallway spilled outside the door. My heart raced as I saw my mom's face - a mixture of anger, and anguish. Without a word, she reached out, her grip tightening around my wrist. I didn't dare say anything or ask anything. Her fingernails dug deeper into my wrist and I winced and tried to pull away.

She glared at me again as she slammed the door behind her, and the white light disappeared from the doorstep to inside the house. I didn't make a sound, and I resisted the urge to scream. The air in the hallway thickened with tension and I was apprehensive.

What did I do now?

Then, with a sudden and forceful motion, she delivered a stinging slap across my cheek and dragged me further into the living room. My feet resisted her pull and tried to pry themselves off her control, but she was stronger than me. My voice had found itself again and I pleaded.

"NO! Mom, please," I begged as the living room appeared in front of me. I recoiled, my eyes welling up with tears as she pushed me into the living room.

"SHUT UP! Are you trying to get the neighbors' attention so that they'll pity you? Why do you live here then?" she screamed at my face as tears started falling down my face.

"I didn't - I didn't do anything," I managed to say between tears and that seemed to be the wrong response because she moved towards me and I moved back.

She lowered her voice. "You didn't do anything? Your sister did badly on her math test today because of you. You confused her instead of teaching her. Why do I spend money on you, then? She is crying in her bedroom now because of it."

I couldn't say anything to that. I had gotten no sleep, had looked like a zombie all day, and screamed at Kyran because I was teaching Eliza Trigonometry. It happened to conveniently become my fault that Eliza doesn't study.

I looked down as she continued cursing me. I shut my eyes tightly and gulped. I started thinking of the work I needed to get done and made a mental checklist to distract me from what she was saying.

"You're good for nothing! How you got these grades, I don't understand. Are you doing your teachers disgusting favors for your grades? Disgusting. I'm ashamed to even call you my daughter," she shouted at me and I was ugly crying by now.

It was bad when people at school assumed it was because they reduced my achievements to nothing. But, it didn't hurt me because I knew that they knew, deep inside that I worked hard for them. They also don't know anything about me, so their assumptions don't hurt.

However, it's horrible, undeniably horrible, when your own mother does that. She saw me studying every day and night. She knew the amount of work I put in, and she saw me doing nothing but work every single second.

I couldn't keep the tears in any longer.

As if I couldn't be more hurt, she dragged me across and up the stairs. I was frightened and she held the grip on my wrist even better and his fingernails found the same position that they had earlier, digging deeper into the already cut skin.

My tears didn't stop the entire time. I tried to suppress them, closing my mouth and my vocal cords in any way possible but I couldn't breathe when I did that. So, I let the pain of her grip engulf me, while she pushed me into my room.

I screamed when I heard the lock click.

I kept screaming, and crying as I banged violently on the door, my already hurt wrist, suddenly throbbing. I felt trapped and I couldn't breathe.

I couldn't...

Breathe.

I stopped the banging when I heard her footsteps going down the stairs and my sister's laugh coming from next door.

Did she know what she did to me?

Locked in the confined space of my room, my sobs echoed against the thick walls of my bedroom, reverberating. It was haunting. The stillness, the quiet and I felt isolated and alone. Lonely.

The air suddenly felt thick, and I gasped for air but it was futile. I couldn't... Panic clutched at my chest and the room seemed to be spinning around me. I used to love staying in my room all alone, but the once haven now felt like a suffocating prison. I pressed my tear-streaked face against the door, silently praying that my mom would have a change of heart. Escape seemed unreachable.

It was unreachable.

I held my hand to my mouth, trying to stop the sobs. It worked until panic seized me, and I was straining to breathe. Tears blurred my vision again, and the room became a blur. I clawed at the door, desperate but I fell back down.

Weak.

It felt like an impending storm, starting with an uneasiness and then I felt my chest tighten. My mom's voice rang in my head again and again, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. My steady heart quickened its pace and it was all I could feel and hear.

I couldn't feel or hear anything else.

Then, it was sheer panic. I was panicking because something was happening and I didn't know what. I was panicking because I wanted to call for help and I couldn't because I was imprisoned in my room.

My heart kept thundering, my breathing became a struggle and the walls seemed to close in.

Wait, that couldn't be right. That's not possible.

It looked very real to me, and fear had taken over my body. A cold sweat broke across my forehead, and I was left trembling. Time felt distorted. How long has it been? I pressed a hand to my chest and took deep breaths in and out.

1...2...3...breathe...

The silence was deafening. It kept me calm though, the numerous hours that I spent in the room. Slowly, the pain in my chest subsided and my breathing started to slowly become normal. I was back to being myself again except, I had an awful pain in my head.

Grabbing my laptop, I finished my homework, after taking some Tylenol to remove the pain. Logging onto the Web version of Instagram I saw 10 notifications.

I smiled unwillingly knowing that it was Kyran. I was furious at him earlier, and my mini-speech probably made no sense to him because it didn't make sense to me. After everything that had gone through tonight, I wasn't in the mood to stay mad at him for asking me about my life.

A smile crept up on my face as I read each of his messages. I sent him a quick message back agreeing to meet up at 8 tomorrow, much to his reluctance that he wanted to get more sleep.

I wished I was him. I knew I was talking to him like nothing was wrong, and that's why I can't and won't tell anyone about this, or anything else. They can't know. I wished I was anyone else. Even the shallow cheerleader whose name I can't remember.

Wishing I was someone else, I cried into my pillow and fell asleep that night. It was painful, and painless at the same time. I felt nothing, nothing inside me but my wrist ached with the bright red marks etched there. I tied a bandage and pretended it was fine.

I was frightened to go down the stairs that morning at 4:30. I knew my mom was usually fast asleep at this time, and that she expected me to wake up at 5:30 like every other day. I knew that I didn't want to risk that. I wore my black turtle-neck jumper, whereas other girls wore them to cover their hickeys, I wore them to cover the bruises from last night when my mom's grip was too harsh that it marked the side of my neck. This morning, I bothered to clean up really well because I didn't want a repeat of yesterday. Plus, I got to sleep.

You tend to do that when you're locked in a room all night.

I carefully went down the stairs, not making any noise to wake my mom up. I tiptoed down when I heard some shuffling coming from my sister's room. Panicking, I opened the fridge, grabbed a banana and two oranges, a protein bar, and scribbled a note on the dinner table telling her that I left for school to do a project for Environmental Science.

I didn't care if she didn't believe me. I was considering living on the school premises, to be honest.

With that, I left the house and practically inhaled the protein bar and the banana. I didn't have dinner last night and barely had anything the whole day. I glanced at my phone. It was just turning five a.m. The coffee shop would be closed as usual, and so would the school. There's no point in me walking that far only to wait in the cold.

So, I did something I never thought I'd do.

I went on a walk near Greenfield Avenue.

I don't know what possessed me to do it. I wasn't planning on accidentally bumping into Kyran.

Whoops, hey Kyran. Fancy seeing you here.

Greenfield Avenue was nestled quite close to the school, bordered by the edge of town. The fancy estate unveiled itself the second you walked through the wrought iron gates that were usually open. Even the gate was adorned by designs, some carefully carved onto the iron.

I spent at least five minutes trying to decipher what the designs could be until I decided that I looked like an absolute idiot tracing my cold fingers across the iron.

It was fascinating.

I looked over to see the perfectly manicured hedges, that were lined up with extreme precision and I stood there, admiring it, remembering the awkwardly chopped hedges that were littered across the estate.

I moved past the meandering cobblestone driveway, where I saw perfectly manicured lawns to match the hedges, and picturesque fountains on the front lawn. There were towering trees all around, probably oak, branches creating a natural canopy.

I was walking by, incredibly slowly, awestruck by the estate. They were not wrong, Greenfield Avenue was a perfect name.

The houses were like mansions, but they were homey. It didn't look like they were mansions although they were huge. They were classical and modern, and suddenly, I felt out of place.

I wasn't supposed to be here.

Rich people's lives were pristine and while I was jealous, and spiteful, I admired it. I couldn't not stand there feeling that this was what the Modern American Dream would be.

I turned back to leave this haven, that couldn't be mine when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I jumped, startled by whoever this was. I was planning on not interacting with anybody but I prepared the lies in my head as I slowly turned around to face them.

It was a girl, around my age and she was smiling widely at me. She had wide, almond-shaped hazel eyes. Framing her face were delicate eyebrows and she had jet-black hair that was pulled into a ponytail. Her light golden-brown skin was gleaming with sweat as she took a long chug of her water.

She looked like a Greenfield Avenue girl.

"Hey, haven't seen you around here before! Did you just move in?" she asked, pulling on her pink tank top.

"Um, no, I just... Yeah, I'll go now," I finished awkwardly as she put her arm out for me to shake.

"I'm Yashna. I go to Oakland High. Sophomore."

I shook her hand and smiled. "I'm Avery. I go to Oakland as well. Junior though. I should get going, but nice to meet you," I quickly replied before turning away.

"Wait, you're Avery Turner. Right?" she asked incredulously and I spun around immediately.

How did she know me?

"Um, yeah. How did you-" I started and she cut me off.

"Oh my god! You're like an inspiration. Every teacher I've had, tells us to aim high like Avery Turner. You're kind of a legend to sophomores and freshmen. Didn't you know that?" she squealed and I gave her a small smile.

She immediately guessed that I didn't know that and hesitated.

"Do you wanna go on a walk around with me? No one is usually awake at this time of the day. Unsurprisingly," she asked and I obliged, following her on her trek across the estate.

She walked as fast as I normally do and I kept up with her easily. She kept chatting away while I semi-focused on what she was saying and stared at the different houses in Greenfield, admiring every single one.

"I live with my parents, and I have two awful siblings. My brother is a jerk, well, whenever he's at home. And my little sister, she's annoying," she laughed away. "My friends don't live anywhere around here but I'm super glad I met you. I've always wanted to know what the mysterious Avery Turner looked like."

"I bet," I answered shortly.

"Do you live around here? How did you end up in GA so early in the morning?" she questioned curiously while skipping a few feet in front of me.

GA? Ah, Greenfield Avenue.

"I was just walking around and wanted to check it out. It's a lovely place..." I told her and she gave me a wide smile again.

"Totally agree. But, I'm not allowed out of the estate for my runs and they're always so boring. Do you come over every day?" she asked hopefully and I shook my head.

"No, it's my first time here," I replied, checking my phone. Mom didn't send me any reply, which means that she didn't see the note or she was still fast asleep and oblivious.

Yashna noticed me checking my phone and frowned. "I'm sorry. Do you have somewhere else to be? People tell me that I need to stop talking so much."

I laughed. "No, it's fine. I was just checking the time."

Yashna furrowed her eyebrows in thought. I awkwardly stood there, while she was deep in thought in a trance of her own. Suddenly, she exclaimed, "Can you please come to my house for breakfast? I want to introduce you to my parents and my dumbass siblings."

"I don't want to intrude-" I began and she cut me off.

"Absolutely not. My parents already love you. I've told them how amazing you are way too many times."

I didn't reply, because having a fan that I didn't know of was odd enough. The crazier part of this was the fact that her parents knew me as well, and Yashna was making me out to be a celebrity.

That's very creepy.

"I insist. I think we'd be great friends," she screamed excitedly while waving at a middle-aged man, who was jogging on the way. Yashna seemed to have a magnetic presence, and when she was pleading like a child in a toy store, I didn't have it in me to say no.

However, it was inappropriate to go to her house like that, when I'd only met the girl for a couple of minutes. I opened my mouth to say no, and that's when my stomach grumbled loudly.

Maybe the banana and the protein bar weren't enough?

I cursed my stomach and unfortunately, Yashna grabbed me by my left hand, leading me to wherever she was going.

"Now, we have to get breakfast. My parents are going to be delighted to meet you!" she exclaimed and I gave her a nervous smile.

What was I getting myself into?

Her house was further into the estate and she kept chatting about her social circle, how they all happened to be living far away from each other. She also resorted to asking me a few questions about getting good grades in sophomore year.

"How did you deal with Physics? I'm struggling so much and Mr. Mercer isn't making it easier. His obsession with making us call him Dr. Mercer doesn't make the situation any better," she complained and I grinned remembering the classes with Dr. Mercer where he went through his ground-breaking PhD research that nobody cared about.

"And we're here!" she suddenly announced and I stood there, remembering that I was in Greenfield Avenue, and I wasn't supposed to be there.

Her house was perched on a rise, and it was a testament to beautiful architecture. It had arched windows, the outside made out of something that seemed like cream-colored limestone but I couldn't be entirely sure. Just like the rest of the estate, the garden seemed to be well-kept, the occasional flower blooms here and there, with a labyrinth of stone paths around the house.

I crossed the threshold that separated the house from the estate and followed Yashna who jumped across two slabs of the stone path.

This was going to be very interesting.

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 Hello my fellow Wattpaders,

I'm very sorry for this emotional rollercoaster of a chapter. It was probably not something you wanted to read on New Year's Day so sorry 😬

On a happier note, Happy New Year everyone! 🥳🥂

I'm trying this new thing where I put a Taylor Swift lyric that matches the chapter at the start, so I'd love any opinions on it. ❤️

Here's hoping that 2024 is going to be an amazing year for everyone! I usually publish as I write, but I wanted to post this on New Year so let's see if scheduled publishing actually works. 

I have to pick my modules for next semester and I'm stressing out because Physics and Math are biting my ass. Oh, well. Becoming an Engineer is super hard, no shit.

Q: What do you think about the Avery Turner fanclub? 

If you liked this chapter, please vote and comment your thoughts! 

Sending kisses, 

Audrey. 💕😘