💖 Don't forget to vote/comment! 💖

***Milo's POV***

My whole body convulses as I am called to the stand. I put my right palm on the Bible and take my oath not to perjure myself. I sit and shimmy in my seat, trying to get comfortable.

"Milo, we are going to take this slowly. If at anytime you need a recess, you let us know. No one is here to judge you. No one here can hurt you. Just do your best to explain everything that you have been through." The judge turns and nods to the prosecutor after giving me his brief pep talk.

"Milo Evans, how old are you?" The prosecutor asks the most basic question first.

"18. Today." I speak clearly.

"Happy Birthday. I'm sorry that this is your celebration." The prosecutor offers me a small sad smile.

"Can you please explain to the jury, from as far back as you can manage, the relationship you shared with Marla and Steve Evans?" The prosecutor breathes calmly while I pray my heart doesn't explode from this stress.

"Marla and Steve adopted me and my twin sister, Laila, at birth. I can't remember much until about age four. Mostly I recall Neko. Every time I had a rough day or a bad nightmare, I ran to him and he hugged me closely while I fell asleep. I have nightmares sometimes still but, I'm not sure if they are fears or memories." I breathe in harshly and try to calm my erratic organ that is trying desperately to disassociate itself from my physical body.

"Can you tell us about the nightmares?" The prosecutor requests.

"Um, I dream that Marla is drowning me in a tub. I cry for her to stop. She does eventually. But, she runs off screaming that she hates me and I end up rushing to Neko's bedroom, begging him to help me. I was three." I put my head down so the memory doesn't eat at me. It's so disturbing to think my mind would conjure up such vivid details if they aren't real.

"Are you okay?" The prosecutor softly whispers. I nod and lift my head.

"I woke up with sweat covering my body. I had dreamt that Steve tried to suffocate me with my Batman pillow, I seemed to be around five. I was clutching his wrists and screaming for him to let me go. I begged him and promised him that I would be a really good boy from now on. My nails were leaving indentations in his flesh. I kicked and thrashed. When he finally let me go, I blacked out." I quietly admit. I hadn't told Neko about most of my dreams. They were too hard to hear out lout.

"Do you remember times that weren't dreams?" The prosecutor encourages.

"Every time Neko was out with friends. If I came home before him, Steve would corner me. He would hit me in the back of my head with his closed fist, slam me against the wall. Sometimes he choked me. His favorite thing to do was stand over me and kick me in my stomach with his work boots." My ribs throb at the thought of being below him as his boot collided with my body.

"Marla was more of a slapper. She back handed me if I complained about dinner. It's not that I wasn't grateful for food. It's just I have some allergies. If I consumed what she had cooked, I may not be here today. She often pulled my hair, pinched me or dug her nails into my skin. She was just catty. She didn't hurt me as much with her physical abuse as the, um, words that cut me deep." I swallow slowly. The lump forming in my throat is suffocating.

"What did she say?" The prosecutor bends down so he is eye level with me. He rests his head on his forearm and it is mildly comforting.

"They missed Laila so much. I understand. That is there daughter. But, I didn't think I was a bad kid. I'm not sure I deserved what they told me." I inhale deeply and desperately pull whatever strength I have inside myself before continuing. My hands wring themselves. My fingers catch my ring and I smile internally.

"They said I was a mistake. That i wasn't supposed to be born. They already had a son and I was unwanted. I was told to just die already. Sometimes they wished out loud that they could put me out of my misery. Sometimes, I wished they would." I whisper the last sentence hoping the people who love me don't hear it. I don't want them to worry.

"How did those things make you feel Milo?" The prosecutor looks at me so sympathetically. His grey eyes are full of tears and I have to wipe away a couple that escape out of my own olive orbs.

"I felt every bit as unloved as they had hoped. I just wanted to have parents that cared for me. I didn't think it was too much to ask. I laid around wondering if I had done something so terrible that the two people who raised me couldn't stand to be in my presence. If I did, I can't remember. It's not a good feeling knowing that those people, who willingly took you in, want nothing more than for you to cease to exist." I close my eyes at the reminder. I don't need this in my life. It doesn't matter.

"Continue explaining the physical abuse please." The prosecutor cups my hand and squeezes it before standing back up to his towering height.

"They weren't home a lot of nights. I sorta felt like they did it on purpose. Those nights, I had to go to bed early, without food. I wasn't allowed to be up and about when they weren't home. They were afraid I would break stuff, not that I ever did. The cabinets never contained food that I wasn't allergic to. So, my stomach shrunk to the point that it was hard to eat even at school. Other times the pain, of Steve's attacks, would be so excruciating that food would come back up. That caused more pain. Eventually, I found it easier not to try eating at all. The abuse was most extensive when Neko would visit. Neko would call telling us he was coming home at some point. They would try to fit a week's worth of assaults in so the bruises would fade before Neko arrived. The same thing with any functions we were required to be at. They wouldn't put their hands on me when Neko was home on leave. I loved those weeks. I got Neko. I got to eat. And, I got a break from the pain. Once Neko left, they spent hours taunting me. They said Neko didn't love me. That he pitied me. That no one could ever love me. They told me the world would be better off if I hadn't took my first breath. I tried not believe them. Sometimes, I failed. I started getting panic attacks. The nightmares became more frequent. My asthma would flare up. They wouldn't keep my inhaler prescription filled. They said I lied about the asthma and the allergies. They wouldn't even let me get my epipen. I didn't lie. The doctors ran tests during my routine physicals. I suffered with low self esteem because I couldn't read and even got held back. The dyslexia kept me from excelling in certain subjects. I thought I was dumb. But, one teacher, he found out about the dyslexia. I got therapy and now I'm graduating with my original class. So, I guess I'm not dumb after all." I state.

"You're obviously very intelligent. We can all see that." The prosecutor commends.

"Thank you." I whisper.

"Let's move on to the last time that Neko came home. Can you tell us about the days before, during and after please. Take your time. We aren't rushing you." He informs me.

"Neko didn't tell us until the night before. Marla and Steve got no warning. The days before had been especially bad. Steve had come home from work in an ill mood. I was used to it and just waited for whatever was coming. He immediately lunged at me while walking into the house. I was sitting on the couch, studying. My books went flying right as my body hit the floor. Steve proceeded to kick his work books into my ribs, stomped on my stomach and attempted to bash my head on the floors. I scrambled away before the damage had gotten to a premium level. I flew up the stairs and took a hot bath to relax the bruised muscles. That night Neko called. He text me and told me he would be home in the afternoon the next day. When we met him at the airport, I jumped into his arms and stayed there as long as I could. Then the week passed. Neko went home. That's when the ascension to my precipice began." I have to stop. I breathe too sharply and my chest begins to constrict. My heart aches and I know I'm one word away from a panic attack.

"I need a break. Now. Please." I rush the words out as I stand. I can't breathe. I can't see. I need a fucking break.

I walk briskly thru the courtroom and slam my hands on the exterior doors to the courthouse steps. I take out my inhaler and greedily breathe in the medicine that will calm me down.

"Koala." Neko has his arms around me.

"I just need a break." I whisper.

"You're doing great. It's almost over. It's almost finished." Neko whispers.

I take long deep breaths and settle myself on the marble steps.

My breath comes a little easier.

"Just keep going and we will be home in no time." Neko promises.

"Okay." I nod as I stand up.

Neko grips my hand and leads me back towards the courtroom. I slowly take my seat in the witness box.

"Are you alright?" The judge questions me.

"Yes, sir. We can continue." I agree.

"Pick up when Neko left, Milo. You're doing amazing. Almost there." The prosecutor encourages.

"We dropped Neko off at the airport. I got home and stepped out of the car. Marla made a comment about me being a slut because they were angry that Neko had set up a grocery delivery service. I was a virgin and bothered to mumble my confession. Marla backhanded me. I didn't bother to protest. She feeds off of that. I started walking up the stairs to the porch but ended up on all fours as Steve shakes me before pushing me forward. It wasn't a big deal. Later that night, I came down for dinner. Marla served peanut sauce. I couldn't eat it because I am deathly allergic. When I expressed that, Steve punched me in my face. They called me names and I cleaned up the kitchen before heading to bed hungry. I didn't make it far. Steve grabbed me around my throat, constricting my airways. He slammed me into the wall and continued to cut off my air supply. I kicked and convulsed against Steve's large frame while he asphyxiated me. My eyes started bulging. My head started throbbing and my body began slowly losing the will to try for oxygen. Steve released me and my head thudded against the tile flooring. I woke up to the sun blaring thru the dining room window. I got dressed in my hoodie and walked to school. My throat was damaged. I could feel it. Max brought up the subject at school but, I brushed it off. They offered me to spend the weekend. I planned on asking." I calmly release my breaths as I get ready to move on to the next few days.

"I spent the weekend with the Wallace's. It was a great weekend. Marla had told me to leave the house for the weekend and I found it the perfect opportunity to finally spend time outside of school with my friends. Julie asked me if I was interested in any girls. I decided to let one of my secrets out. I came out of the closet to my closest friends. Lux Wallace became ridiculous after my confession. He professed his undying love for me. I laughed. He made it a hundred times easier to be myself with his antics. I love that about him. Monday, at school, Max jumped down my throat over the knot that he spotted over the weekend. That's where Steve dropped me after almost strangling the life out of me. I didn't tell and I guess that pissed Max off. I was embarrassed that I had disappointed Max. I couldn't gather the courage to expose Marla and Steve. I was hurting everyone around me. I just wanted it to all end. I left with Lux during lunch." My stomach churned as the events lead up to the single worst day of my life.

"Lux took me to a diner and tells me that We eat and I talk. Knowing that I really couldn't deny what they saw, I agreed. I admitted that Marla and Steve hurt me and began crying. It was so much. It's all too much. Lux shifted me to his lap and I felt better. He fed me and snuck in a couple kisses to my lips that made me giggle. We talked and then he dropped me off at home. That's when all hell broke loose." I violently tremor as the day that we are all here for comes flooding back to the forefront of my memory. Every single hit, kick, punch and pain reverberates through my body.

"Last stretch. Then we're home." The prosecutor promises me.

I reluctantly nod and start to tell the story of my last day with Marla and Steve.

"I didn't get through the door before I was attacked. Steve had gotten a call from the school saying I had went home. Apparently, he had followed Lux and me to the diner and stalked our lunch. He saw and heard everything somehow. He got confirmation that I confessed the abuse, naming Marla and him as the perpetrators. He also found out that I liked boys."

I face my father. Steve has a look of murder and a smirk of knowledge. I freeze where I stand.

My head hits the back of the door as my eyes open in fear. The first punch makes contact and I barely flinch. The fist is so powerful that it produces a wave of pain so strong it numbs simultaneously. Blood flies from my nose as my eyes fill with tears.

"BASTARD! FAGGOT!" Steve screams into my ringing ears. Each word is punctuated with a matching blow. His face is red with anger and anticipation. Sweat boils under the pores of my skin waiting to break out.

My head explodes into a fiery pain as the screaming becomes louder and more distant.

I feel the knee in my groin. The velocity of the kick sends a high pitched screech out of me, vomit projects from my stomach.

"Did you think they didn't call me? I followed you. I heard you tell that gay boy our secrets. He kissed you." Steve yells in my face. His hand grips my head. He slams my skull into the solid wood door. Once. Twice. Three times.

"You ruined everything. My name is worthless in this town. This is all your fault. Why were you even born?" The man, I call Dad, punches my temple. I slide down the door as my world spins on its axis.

"I don't even care that you suck dicks, you fucking whore. But, to tarnish everything I built. You disgust me. After everything we did for you." Steve kicks me continuously in my side as my ribs protest the assault.

I scramble to my knees to crawl away but, his size 13 steel toe boot collides with my jaw. My face whips to the side and blinding pain explodes in my facial bones. I lay below the six foot-two monster and gasp for air.

The door flies open and my mom walks in. Her face looks evil with her red lipstick smile plastered on her caked up face. She laughs maniacally while her red hair falls from it's french twist. She crosses her arms over her chest and stands at attention.

I let loose a prayer to please make it to help. I beg whatever God that will listen to send help. Please. I have to make it to Neko. He needs me. I need him.

My father picks up an object and slams it into my leg. The loud crack vibrates off the cathedral ceilings and wood floors of the living room. My leg throbs violently with sheer pain. I let out a monstrous scream of agony.

"Shut your cock sucking lips boy. No one is gonna save you. No one loves you." Marla screeches as she throws a lamp at my broken body.

"We should have left him at the hospital." Marla shakes her head. The motion looks too fast and all too slow. My eyes swell and the images blur. Another kick lands to my hip and I yelp.

Marla jumps on top of me and repeatedly slams my head against the oak flooring. I cough and sputter as my lungs beg for oxygen.

Her bony fingers wrap around my neck and her thumbs dig into the hollow of my throat. I kick my right leg trying to reach any portion of her flesh. I fight for purchase. My left leg won't move at all. It feels heavy and dead.

My coughing comes to a standstill as heat radiates down my esophagus and my eyes bulge. Sweat drips down my forehead and stings my eyes.

Marla releases me and I barely comprehend the words coming out of her mouth. She slams something into my right arm. A ripple of pain bursts thru the vibrations.

"Leave. Run. You aren't welcome here. You don't deserve our love." Marla yells and I smile as my world goes into a vortex of pain and tears.

The front door opens and I hear the click of heels, the stomp of boots. They drift until they are no longer a sound on the wooden floors of a place I called home.

I use my right leg and my left arm to roll over and I army crawl towards my back pack. I feel for the zipper on my front pocket of my bag and open it slowly with my shaking fingers.

I grasp my phone and hit the side button five times. I relax onto the cool surface of the flooring. My cheek lays against the grain and I smile. They will never hurt me again. I won't ever let them hurt me again.

I wait for what seems like hours. I'm sure minutes passed by. I hear the familiar sirens of help. I can't help but smile when several sets of boots make their way into my line of vision, parallel with the floor.

"Oh God." I hear a husky voice.

"Son. Can you hear us?" I tap my fingers against the boot that is closest to my face.

"I need an ambulance. 1917 E Alder St. Hurry. Seriously." The husky responder breathes out over the radio.

"Who did this?" The officer requests.

I try to talk but, my throat is swollen shut. I tap on the floor to let them know I'm at least conscious. Barely. The noise is a low echo between my ear drums.

"We need to turn him over." The second officer calls out.

"No. Wait for paramedics. There's no telling what injuries he has sustained." Officer one halts Officer two.

The cops sit beside me and talk lowly to me. Their words are comforting but, I can't respond. I lay there in a haze of pain and bliss. It's finally over.

The next round of sirens vibrate thru the air and I relax into a welcoming air of calm.

I finish my total recall and the room is silent. My eyes leak profusely. I can't see and I don't want to. Warm hands cup my face and lips meet my temple. I feel the Kleenex swipe across my eyes.

"You did it. I'm so proud of you." Neko's velvet tone swarms me and rescues me in my darkest hour.

"No further questions." The prosecutor announces.

"You are so fucked. He just signed your death warrant you stupid sick fucks." The defense attorney snarls a loud whisper to a stunned Marla and Steve.