Prompt: Broken Wristwatch, Peppermint, A hug that goes too far

It was the small things that set off the memories. A little noise here or there; a scent that tickled my nose; even the taste of the air had vomit burning the back of my throat.

I remember it all. All the sick nights. Every time I begged my parents not to leave; every time I tried to tell someone, just to have them laugh me off or sneer.

"You're a child. Do you even know what you're saying?"

And I'd slink away, shoulders hunched. I'd grit my teeth and just count to ten. Not that simple numbers could erase the images burned into my mind.

Whenever he'd come over, his hugs would be a little too much. Never enough to warrant question from my parents, but enough that it made my skin crawl.

He always wore a wristwatch I'd broken in retaliation. I knew it was there just to mock me. A silent reminder that no matter what I did, I powerless.

Peppermint always followed him. Half the time I thought he bathed in the scent. It would fill my room, making my head spin circles to the point I'd have to close my eyes.

That may have been for the best, though, because I always hated his smile. I like to think it was that smile that set me off. It's almost comical, the way I can recount every detail of everything he did to me; but that one night is lost.

One minute his smile was there, the next I'm being escorted out of the house and shoved into an ambulance, a fresh color adorning my naked body.

I often wished I remembered it. It would be the only pleasurable thing to come of the interactions between us.

My fingers brush against the broken watch encircling my narrow wrist. A smile curls my lips because I'm not so powerless now.