It's Abuse [Inactive]

Vincent had just sat down with today's choice, a hamburger. He licked his lips in anticipation and sunk his teeth into the meaty choice between his hands. Of course, it could never compare to a home cooked burger on the grill, but it was a sort of comfort food for him. Something simple to remind him of home, something that was cooked commonly every day in case he felt like eating it. He took a sip from the cup of water he'd filled up, and then went in for a second bite.


From the entrance of the cafeteria, he could've sworn he saw Zoey walking in. The hair was right, dark brown, and struck him as at least a tad wavy. He raised a hand into the air and waved at the girl. "Hey Zoey!" He called across the way, just loud enough so she'd be able to hear him.


If she was here, that meant she was at least feeling better. Vincent was relieved to know that she hadn't gotten sick from the game that he had invited her to. That would've made him feel terrible, just knowing that his actions made her ill. Still, that wasn't the case.


He tapped the chair beside him as an invitation for her to join.
 
Zoey had just walked into the cafeteria when she heard someone call her name, her head jerking up in the direction of the noise. Oh, it's Vincent. She let out a short breath of relief she didn't know she had been holding and, after getting herself a water bottle along with a salad with Cesar dressing drizzled on top, she made her way over to her friend.


"Hey Vincent. Sorry about worrying you yesterday." She mumbled as she sat down in the seat right next to him, her hands automatically taking off the lid from the water so she could clear her dry throat. Even though she just had her normal cup of coffee it still felt really nice to have the cold water glide down her throat with ease. It was one of the things she enjoyed drinking because it never changed, always stayed the same, and it felt nice to be able to predict something in life since her's was always so chaotic and out of order.


"I'm feeling better today. I mean I was actually able to come to school today so that must be a plus."
 
"Well that's good." Vincent chuckled. He, too, let out a long held breath at the sight of Zoey. She was alive and well before his eyes, although her face still looked awfully red. "Still, you look a little warm. Right there." He pointed to her cheek.


They chatted, casual banter about classes as they ate. Even though he talked, soon Vincent had scarfed down his meal, only sipping at the water in front of him as Zoey still picked at her salad. He drummed his fingers on the table, suddenly embarrassed he'd eaten so quickly. She might have felt rushed, and that wasn't the point. The man was just starving.


"I think I told you, but, I never have classes on Friday." Vincent explained. As an afterthought he added, with a small smirk on his face. "Plus, Thomas is out of town, so I've got the room to myself at last. Although I have been looking for a cheap apartment. Parents said they'll help pay for it."


The more he thought about moving into an apartment the more appealing it sounded. No more lazy cafeteria food, cramped spaces. He could have an entire bedroom to himself, and then some. A couch, a tv where he could relax and play video games to his hearts content. That, or cook something proper in a kitchen. Vincent actually loved to cook, was brilliant at it, but had nothing to cook with in his tiny dorm room.


It just keep sounding better and better.
 
Zoey was mortified once Vincent had poked at her cheek in the same spot where she had gotten slapped, the emotion only dissipating once he had removed the finger and began talking casually as if that never happened, I just hope that he didn't smear any of the concealer.





Taking her time to eat her salad in front of her, as she still had an hour until her fist class even began, Zoey couldn't help but feel amused at how quickly Vincent had eaten his hamburger. It reminded her of a lion going in for the kill after being starved for an extended period of time and she had to suppress her giggles with a cough every now and again. She swears that she has the most immature imagination known to mankind.


"Yeah, I do remember you talking about your free Fridays earlier. And it's good that your looking for your own place. It's going to be nice to finally have your own freedom away from living with Thomas and it's nice that your have some support to help you out." Zoey couldn't help the little sliver of wistfulness that had slipped into her words as she talked about the freedom of having your own apartment, something she desperately longed to have, but she really was just happy, albeit a little envious, for Vincent and how big of an accomplishment it was going to be for him.
 
Vincent listened to her words, but focused on her face. He smeared some of the makeup out of the way, he didn't know what it was called, never would understand how much makeup there was in the world. Beneath the surface of the makeup, her face looked raw and bruised. He stopped her short and carefully wiped at her cheek with his thumb.


Once he revealed the spot, his face grew serious as he examined the large mark. Just as he'd thought, red, raw, bruised. How she'd gotten it, he had no idea, but he didn't like where his imagination was taking him. He whispered so as not to attract attention, not wanting her to run.


"Hey, Zoey." He pinched her chin to examine her face one more time. If he looked hard enough, there was an imprint of a hand. He hoped it was just the lighting. "Who did that?"


Please don't run.
 
Zoey didn't know why but, even with her eyes wide and her breathing slightly erratic, didn't remove Vincent's hands away from her face as his fingers oh-so-slowly removed some of the concealer off of the hand-shaped bruise formed on her face. She had desperately hoped that he wouldn't have noticed but at the same time she knew it was a stupid request. He was too smart for that.


She swallowed, the motion making her feel as if cotton was stuck in her throat, and slowly turned her face toward her friend. She knew that escaping would be inevitable, or if anything only prolong it, and she hated herself at that moment for the trembling that had subtly started along her shoulders, the feeling spreading to the rest of her body.


Maybe if I don't answer the question he'll just leave it alone... Even Zoey knew that that would never happen. Vincent was loyal to his friends with all of his being. He wouldn't stand for them getting picked on or hurt and while it was a trait that Zoey often admired in him, it was also one of his faults.


"Do... Do you think we could not do this here?" Her voice trembled and she hadn't never wanted to run away from anything as much as she had in that moment, her body tense and ready to spring away even as it still shook slightly. But she knew that if she did run Vincent would either be hurt or follow after her, both things that she wished to avoid if she could.
 
Vincent was startled to hear the fear in her voice. So it was true then. Someone had hit her, and hard by the looks of it. He removed his hand from her face and very carefully wrapped it around her body as best he could. She was his friend, he'd never do something like that, and he hoped she would understand that.


"Come here." Vincent murmured, hoping she was at least decent enough to think about talking to him He brushed her arm with his fingers, so gently it hardly moved the fabric of her black shirt. "Zoey, we can go somewhere quieter. My dorm is empty." He looked her dead in the eyes, wondering if she would even look back.


"You don't have to tell me, but that's not okay." He said sternly. "If someone hurt you, you can tell me, Zoe. I won't breathe a word of it to anyone. You know that."


Who was it? Who did it? His mind raced a thousand thoughts a minute. Was it an accident and he was overreacting? No, otherwise she wouldn't have trembled so, asking not to talk about it. Maybe she was embarrassed? Abuse? What was it, who did it, these were things he couldn't answer alone.


Please, my god, just tell me. Zoey. Don't ignore me.





The words he couldn't say, he screamed through his stare. She could trust him. If only she'd let that happen.
 
Zoey sighed as she looked down at the table, happy with the light and careful touches Vincent used on the other bruises he didn't know about. It was more of a comfort than anything else because, in his own way, it felt like Vincent was telling her that he was there for her. And she knew he was.


Vincent was the exact opposite of Matthew, treating her like she was an actual person instead of something to be stepped upon. Treating her with respect and more as an equal instead of her being lower than him, which is what Matthew did. Plus, Vincent had never once laid a hand one her in a way that was meant to harm or talked down to her as if he was bigger. It was like a breath of fresh air.


After staring at the table for a few more tense seconds she finally let her eyes look up into Vincent's, brown on brown, and tried her best to keep them there. The last thing she wanted him to think was that she was afraid of him.


"Sure, I'll follow you back to your dorm. What's another day without classes, anyways?" It was a weak attempt at humor, she knew that, but most of the time it was a defense mechanism she used. Zoey wasn't the most comfortable person in serious situations, she never really knew why though, and if she said something sarcastic it felt as if she was at least attempting to do something about it.


Zoey slowly stood up from the seat she had just occupied and took the rest of her food to the trash, her appetite having vanished, before walking back over to the table. "And Vincent? I'm just so tired of keeping it hidden, even if I have my reasons. But, before I tell you anything, I just want you to think of all the possibilities about... about who it could be. I know you're smart enough to figure it out yourself."
 
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Matthew?





"Come on, Zoey." He said quietly, and led her back to his dorm. The walk was short, but he didn't dare say a word, risk making her upset in public. In private, he'd let her react however she wanted. If she cried, she could cry, and if she wanted to yell and scream, he'd only make sure no one else came to interrupt her. If this was indeed abuse, she had the right to feel how she wanted.


He quickly unlocked the door and ushered her inside. Vincent emptied his pockets onto the desk, and turned to face the girl. "Let me see that." He mumbled quietly, and again very carefully held her chin to examine the mark on her face. It wasn't right, for someone to hit her so hard the imprint was left on the skin. Anger boiled in his gut and he wanted to find a way to make it even, but beating someone else up was no way to solve a problem.


"Zoey," He was still quiet, eyes sad. "Why didn't you say anything? How long as he been hitting you? It's Matthew isn't it?" So many questions at once, but he wanted a straight answer.
 
Zoey's eyes swam once again with pathetic tears once they were safely inside Vincent's dorm room, her teeth biting her lip in an unconscious act of nervousness. She remained silent as he checked over her cheek once more, only gathering enough courage to speak up after Vincent had fired off some question at her.


"See, I knew you'd figure it out." She couldn't directly say his name, didn't want to make what had been happening to her all the more real, but knew that her request would soon be broken. Of course it was reality, her reality, and there was no way to avoid that. It was just the painful truth that she had wished desperately to be wrong. Or, at least she used to wish for it. Now it was just something she had learned to accept. Over time she had even slightly become to believe the words he would throw at her, about how useless she was and how she made Matthew do what he did by provoking him. It had just come to that point in the abuse where she had lost all, or most, of the fight in her.


And she hated herself for it.


"I guess you want the truth, huh? The abuse, that's been going on for about a year. I-" Zoey's voice cracked on the word, her eyes blinking rapidly at a failed attempt to get rid of the tears still swimming in her eyes, making them look glassy and dazed. "I didn't know what he was actually like, what his true color were, until I moved in with him at the apartments. And why I didn't say anything? Because I was, am, afraid. There are plenty of threats aimed my way that has held me back from telling..."


A sardonic laugh squeezed out her mouth and she hated that she sounded so defeat but she couldn't help it. Over the past year she had slowly been cracking until she shattered, leaving her broken. Although, with Vincent, she could truly act like herself and forget for a little bit what Matthew had taken away from her. But, besides the threats keeping her mouth shut, she was also afraid of being judged and rejected. While Zoey wasn't completely self-conscious she wasn't at all close to being self-confident either.
 
"Zoey." He tried to stop the tears, but couldn't think of the correct words to say. What could he really say after all? Hang in there, it'll get better. Just watch out, don't make him mad. That kind of advice was terrible and not needed. She needed to get away from him, from Matthew. "Hey, hey, please don't cry."


Vincent led her over to his futon and made her sit down. He knelt in front of her on the floor and looked up at her from there. All he could think to do was rest a hand on her knee, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb across her jeans. Even then, he was scared there was an unseen bruise he would hit, and only cause her further pain. It explained why she wore so many long sleeved shirts when it was coming closer to Summer every day, probably to hide the marks.


"I'm really glad you told me, or, well." Vincent stumbled over his words. He was the one to notice, but what he meant to say he was glad he knew now. This made it easier to help her, if she wanted help. "Zoey, it doesn't have to be like that at all. Whatever he's telling you, you do not deserve to be hit so hard in the face, you have to cover it up with makeup."


What support can I give her? She's got to get out of that mess.





His own brown eyes gave off a look of sympathy to her. At the same time, he was terribly sorry he hadn't noticed sooner. She did a damn good job of hiding it, but he was so ashamed he'd been so distant that he couldn't tell. There were looks, and how well she hid it. All the odd quirks, he should've been able to put them together, but he hadn't. It pained him to realize that all this time, the abuse had gotten so far that she was so scared.
 
Zoey couldn't help but laugh again, her hands going up to her cheeks to wipe away the tears. Once she was sure that most were gone she looked own at the hands and saw the concealer smeared on them, her face blank. Now the mark would be completely uncovered without the protection of the make-up something that she was surprisingly relieved about.


Zoey's eyes went back onto Vincent's after she was sitting down on the futon, her mind absently recognizing his hand lightly running over her knee on a faraway aspect. Once Vincent started talking about how Zoey didn't deserve to be hit though, she immediately looked away from his gaze once again.


She didn't really know what she did and didn't deserve anymore at this point. After being around Matthew for so long she couldn't help but find some truth to his words. Couldn't help but recognize some reason to why he hit her nearly on a daily basis. And for once she finally admitted it to someone else besides herself.


"Vincent, I don't really know what I do and don't deserve at this point. I mean, I've practically lost all will to fight away the inevitable, which is exactly what it is. Although, he usually doesn't hit me on my face. That was just a pleasant surprise from Wednesday, I guess." She murmured the last part mostly to herself, her tone bitter and sarcastic. 'Pleasant surprise' my ass.
 
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"Zoey, no one deserves to be hit like that." Vincent said seriously.


That's awful. Has it really gotten to the point where she thinks she might even deserve it? Damn. What the hell have I been doing?





Vincent shook his head. The emotions swirling around in his stomach ranged between an anger for Matthew, how he had been beating Zoey, there was shame for himself for not noticing, and pity, fear, and concern all left for Zoey.


"How many more?" Vincent murmured, she didn't meet his gaze. Zoey had looked away once he'd told her what she didn't deserve. "Does he hit you often?" The questions were hard to ask, but it had to be done. If Vincent was going to be of any help, he had to know. One thing was for certain, he wouldn't sit idly by and let her be abused by Matthew any longer. If he could get her out of the apartment, he'd do it in a heartbeat.
 
Zoey tried her best to ignore Vincent's remark about how no one deserved what was happening to her and instead licked her dry lips before responding, prolonging the question even if only for a few extra seconds.


"Too many more to count." She admitted ashamedly, her eyes closing on their own accord. It was physically painful and all around exhausting to talk about this specific topic, haunting memories both old and new rising to the surface. But she knew that it had to be done if she wanted help, which she did more than anything. It was also a bit relieving to be able to share such a huge thing that had been weighing her done quite a bit.


"It does occur pretty frequently. More so than I'd like to admit or think about. And how many more scars and bruises that are supposed to be added to the collection each time just depends on his mood at the time. It's something I can never really predict, only learn to deal with." She finally opened her brown eyes once again and, with only slight hesitation, let them meet Vincent's. She didn't even bother to hide the pain or sadness that was obviously evident inside them, only glad that they were at least dry for now.
 
"Zoey, look at me." Vincent spoke sternly, "What he's doing is wrong. And you do not deserve it, do you understand? He's taking out his aggression on you." He picked up her hands and squeezed them, still softly because he was afraid of hurting her.


Truth be told, he was scared to be near her for a moment. Where were the bruises? What was beneath her clothes, hidden on her skin. Vincent by nature wanted to just scoop her up and take her somewhere safe. He had two younger sisters, and hugs were how problems were dealt with. Still, he was terrified of hurting her even more, or pushing her away when she really needed help. It was unlikely she'd ever admit it to anyone else.


"I'm scared to let you go back, Zoey." He admitted. "We're friends, and I know if I let you walk out that door, you're going to come back with a new bruise somewhere. Aren't you?"


He had to do something. Anything.


"But, Zoey, please." He pleaded with her this time, again squeezing her hands so she knew he was sincere. "I don't want you to every think you deserve to be abused. I'm telling you, that is not true."
 
"Vincent, you don't know how many times I've tried to tell myself that, only to ask myself 'why me?'. There must be something... wrong with me if he keeps doing it, right? It's just going to take me some time in order to believe anything I do could ever be right." It's been branded into her mind and skin just how worthless she really was and, even if she desperately wanted to believe that it wasn't true, Matthew was always there to tell her otherwise. All and all it just wasn't fair.


And she could only nod her head to Vincent's worries, undoubtedly knowing that what he was saying was painfully true. "I'd love not to go back Vincent but I'd rather face the consequences when I get back home tonight than if I hide for a day in waiting. If I did that then he'd only be even more furious with me."


Zoey was petrified to go back herself but she knew that it was unavoidable. As she continued to look at Vincent though, she felt her heart break from his sincerity, an emotion she didn't need yet appreciated all the same. "I live with constant reminders of what I live in, whether it be from pain or me taking a glance in the mirror at my reflection. And, I'm pretty sure you now know why I wear jeans or long sleeved shirts and jackets in such hot weather."
 
"Zoey." His heart was breaking the longer they spoke. "Zoey, listen to me, there is nothing wrong with you. Believe me. You're a sweet, very clever girl. Whatever he's told you isn't true."


Vincent had to shift awkwardly from his kneeling stance so he could relieve some of the pressure in his knees. He didn't want to let her go, if he did, it felt like whatever slap came her way would be his fault. Vincent now knew what was going on inside that apartment, and letting her head off right into a war zone made him just as guilty as Matthew. Even if he'd never throw a punch her way, it felt just the same.


"I'm sorry that you have to deal with this Zoey, I am, really." Vincent asserted his apology as best he could, even if it wasn't his fault to begin with. "But I just don't want to let you go back."


Besides that, you are just too damn beautiful to hide behind your scars. The thought rang clear, but he dared not say the words. Not now. She needed him as a friend.
 
To be perfectly honest, Zoey didn't want to go back herself. She wanted to be greedy for once and just stay next to Vincent for as long as she could, the feelings of safety and kindness, of honesty and worth something she wanted to hold on to for as long as she could. Going back to Matthew would only bring her pain and regret or self-hate.


With all her being she despised what her so called 'boyfriend' had reduced her to and if there was anything in the world she could do, she'd wish that she had never met him as a senor in high school, never met the guy with looks and a personality that had deceived her. Taken in a large breath to calm herself down, she spoke softly to Vincent.


"Vincent, I want you to know that no matter what I would never blame you for anything. It's not your fault that this is going on, you and I are practically powerless to do anything, and even if you may have been able to figure this whole mess out earlier, what good would that have done? The only thing you could possibly do right now is be there for me. All I need is support and a shoulder to lean on."


She became silent after that, listening to her heart drumming throughout her ears and her deep breathing, anything to keep her from focusing on anything important at that moment. After a few more moments of silence had passed, she spoke up again, nervous.


"Would you... would you like to see some of the extent of it? Of the abuse I mean. You may as well know what you're getting yourself into instead of treading around blindly." While the words flowed out from her lips, Zoey started fingering her light jacket draped across her arms. All she would have to do was take off the jacket and he'd get a small glimpse of what home life was like. And only a small glimpse it'd be because the rest was along her legs, torso and chest.
 
Before she could pull the jacket from her frame, he stood up and held the jacket on her shoulders. "If you don't want to show me, I don't want to force you."


Vincent moved away so he wasn't towering over her, and sat beside her on the futon, careful not to touch her. He didn't want to make any move that would put her in an uncomfortable spot. No more sudden jerks or shoulder slaps from him. Vincent winced slightly thinking about how often he'd be the one to give her the over the shoulder hugs, had he hurt her on accident? Well shit.





Still. Curiosity picked at his mind. What was under her jacket? How bad could it be, really? By the sound of it, Matthew was unpredictable, which could have meant anything from nightly beatings to the occasional smack. He must have been strong though, the mark on Zoey's face proved as much.


"I'll be here for you, Zoey. I promise." He smiled a bit, hoping it would bring some peace to her mind.
 
Zoey was happy that Vincent gave her a choice in the matter. He didn't force her to take off the jacket or leave it back on but if anything, it did sound like he wanted to see. She knew that he was a naturally curious person, like herself, and knew that he had questions as well.


But Zoey had already made up her mind and was determined to go through with her choice. The only thing that could hold her back was what Vincent would think and how he would take it. Would he be disgusted in her? Would he be mad at her for not trying hard enough to prevent what was on her flesh? Would it make him see her in a new light, a light of which he never wanted to see or be near again?


There really was only one way to find out.


Zoey bit her lip, something she was doing a lot of recently, and spoke up again. "Vincent, I know you'd never force me to do anything. In fact I trust you quite a bit, something that was hard to do when we first met. And I know how curious you are and the fact that you have questions you want answers to. I-I need to do this, for myself more than anything. I'm really only afraid of what you'll think."


With those last few words said, she slowly shrugged the jacket off of her form and placed it upon her lap, leaving her in only a black tank top that exposed her now bare arms to the cool air. She made sure to avoid any eye contact whatsoever so she wouldn't have to see what reaction Vincent would have.
 
Vincent took a hiss for a breath in. Her arms, covered in various stages of bruising, were completely battered. Some looked like Matthew had grabbed her, the marks from his fingers fresh in her skin. He moved his hand so it hovered over her arm, letting it trail from the top of her shoulder, to the very tips of her frail fingers.


He didn't say anything at all. Vincent scooted himself as close as he could and wrapped an arm around her like he always did when they met. This time, he could place his hand where it wouldn't hurt her, and he still did so with a precise concern for her and her pain tolerance. Still a head shorter even sitting, Vincent leaned his head of brown hair into hers.


There weren't words for a situation like that. All she'd known was abuse and pain for the last year and the best Vincent could do was remind her that even the slightest touch could be good. He felt horrible, sick to his stomach.


But even without something good to say, he spoke slowly into her hair. "I don't want you to be afraid. You know what I think?" He asked her, giving a few seconds for her to give an answer. "You're still my good friend, and I hate to see you like this. I'm not going to treat you any differently than I normally would. We can still have coffee, play some sports when you want. The only thing that'll change is that I'm going to be here a lot more from now on. Does that still sound alright?"


He didn't let go of her, but if she wanted out of his half embrace, she could go.
 
Zoey nodded her head in acceptance to his request and question, her body moving closer within his embrace for more comfort. She tilted her head against his chest and let out a muffled reply.


"Just, whatever you do, don't treat me like I'm some delicate china. I don't want you to handle me with only caution. If anything, that'd hurt worse because then I would always be reminded of my predicament. I don't want that. Although, I will tell you if I'm ever in any pain."


She let the silence stretch on, not at all uncomfortable, before deciding to hopefully relieve Vincent from one of his worries. "I just want you to know that I don't think I could ever be afraid of you. I'm not so naive to where I think everyone I come across will hurt me, even when it sometimes feels like it. And you never have to doubt yourself around me."


Zoey paused, trying to collect her thoughts for a moment, before she continued on in a broken and hoarse voice. "Vincent... how am I supposed to get out of this? Or, what if I can't?"
 
"You're so great at expressing yourself, your worries, that's good. Really good." Vincent praised her. She knew what she wanted, and what she didn't. Vincent could follow those guidelines. Be normal. That wasn't all that hard. He did worry that there would be times he would forget to be too careful. She would remind him, and he would go back to acting normal. This is what she wanted and he'd do his best to get it right for her.


Zoey's voice cracked and it sounded as if she might cry. Let her talk, let her cry. He shifted her up carefully, and swung her legs over his lap, this way, she could hide her face if she wanted, and he could have a better hold of her. Both arms wrapped around her to keep her torso up. His hand extended towards the top of her head so he could stroke it softly in case she did start crying. Comfort, he told himself, just let her be.


"I've got you now." Vincent whispered softly. "I'll get you out."
 
Zoey subtly winced as Vincent moved her legs and wrapped both arms around her torso, those being sensitive spots just like her arms. Although, all she did was bury herself even more against him with her own arms snaking along until they hooked behind his back. "Sorry." She apologized in a quite voice, her face still pressed against his chest. "Those are sensitive spots as well."


Once she had gotten comfortable in her position, the relief from being off of her feet quite wonderful, she did let a few traitors tears escape from their prison along her eyes, her body shaking just slightly with silent tremors. She was happy that Vincent was so willing to help her out, so willing to be there for her, and that's what scared her out of her mind.


"That's exactly what I'm afraid of though. I'm afraid that with you trying to help me find a way out, you'll get hurt yourself. And if that ever did happen then I don't know whether or not I'd be able to forgive myself for it." She'd always, no matter what, put Vincent's health and well being before her own. It was just the way she was. And sadly it was just the way Vincent was as well."
 
"Zoey, I want you to put everything aside. What do you want?" Vincent continued to stroke her hair, even with her head tucked into his chest. She shook in his arms, and he mumbled an apology for rustling her bruises. "Don't worry about me, I want you to think about what it'd be like to be out of that apartment."


Of course they would be at odds about which person needed more protection. Zoey would lose this battle, Vincent would not let her put him before her. She was the one in need of help. When it boiled down to it, she was in more immediate danger which made her a priority. Even without the abuse, she would still have been a priority.


Her happiness before mine. That's what friends do. Right?





"I would rather take a punch to the face than see you with a black eye, Zoey." Vincent murmured affectionately. "A thousand times over, that's not right that you have to deal with that. I mean it. I'll get you out of there. I promise."
 
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