I should have known better than to trust that the school would protect me. How could they? How could the admin and staff possibly have even the slightest of an idea that the one person at this school that was supposed to take care of me, ensure I was safe, was they very reason I didn't feel it. But Mom had made it so a teacher was always at my side, which had been manageable all week. They were there, which meant that Louis couldn't be.

That ended Friday at lunch. I had purposely avoided the cafeteria, I had no reason or desire to be in there. Ms. Luna, however, had a staff meeting she was supposed to attend over that time, so I'd be alone. Somehow Louis must have gotten word of it, because the empty hall grew cold and when I looked up, I found him and one of his buddies closing in on me; the predator and its prey.

He grabbed my arm the minute I tried to turn away. "Where's your little boyfriend, huh? Did he finally get tired of you?"

I wished I had enough in me to stand up to him. To shout in his face or slap him. But I cowered under his intense gaze instead, and he took that as me giving him control and he shoved me away from him.

"Why did you come back anyway? To make your poor mother and Dad suffer more? To just torture baby Xavier before you slit your wrists again."

Fuck you, I wanted to yell, but I looked to my feet without a word.

"Such a shame how everything turned out for you, isn't it?" he closed the gap between us and touched his hand to my butt. I tried to move, but it made him pull me closer and I could feel his breath tickling my cheek as he whispered, "Slut."

I couldn't contain my sob and it broke passed my lips seconds later. It was my mistake. Because he grabbed my face roughly so my jaw was in between his fingers and I was staring up at him.

"You are nothing, Marlene." he leaned in close again and said, "And if you try and tell my dad and your mom what really happened, you'll wish your attempt worked."

He then pushed me into the locker and joined his friend a few feet away. His friend's eyes roamed me for a moment, then he shrugged slowly, but offered a sad look and turned back to my brother. Waiting until he was out of sight, I lifted my head and caught Gage standing and staring with wide eyes outside the school doors, mouth agape. I rushed down the hallway, in the opposite direction, and rushed into the bathroom. For a moment I thought I might throw up, but only dry heaved a few times. I started to walk backward until my back was pressed against the wall and I slammed my fists repeatedly against the stall door.

"I hate you!" I shouted. "I hate you!"

I didn't even hesitate to force my pants down to my ankles and drop to the dirty, cold bathroom floor. I swung my backpack so it was at my side and pulled my razor blade from the front pocket. I was so focused on forcing my thighs apart I didn't hear the door open.

"Marley?" Gage knocked gently on the door.

I ignored him and squeezed my eyes shut.

"You're a slut."

"You're worthless."

"Nobody will ever want—"

"Marley!" Gage's growl startled me and the blade dropped to the ground and landed in between us. He slipped fully under the stall door and grabbed it before I could.

"What are you doing in here? This is the girls bathroom! I could have been—"

"You promised me you wouldn't cut!"

I clenched my trembling hand into a fist. "It's not your business."

"I'm your friend. I care about you. It is my business."

"You don't understand, I can't—"

He interrupted before I could finish, staring down at the razor blade in his hand. "You can't escape him because he's everywhere you turn? You cut because it's the only source of release from everything? The pain from the cutting drowns out all the thoughts. I know, Mar. I understand."

He set the blade on the ground and moved so he was in between my legs, eyes burning into mine.

"Give it to me. The pain." he pleaded. "If you feel the urge to self-harm, call me or come straight to me. Punch me, kick me, beat the ever-living shit out of me if you have to. Just don't hurt yourself."

His words hurt me even more and I started to dig my nails into my open wounds. He grasped my wrists and held my hands in his own.

"The more you fight them, the voices, the louder they scream." he said softly, moving closer to me. "You can't let them win again, Mar. You have to be stronger. You have to learn to drown them out."

Gage shifted slightly and pulled me into his warm embrace, and for a while he just sat that, his hands raking through my hair, before his agonizing words echoed through the silent bathroom.

"My uncle started molesting me when I was nine." he said. I stiffened, lifting my head to stare at him, but he is completely oblivious to the action. "At first it was just touching inappropriately here and there with the promise I wouldn't tell my Mom or Dad. The older I got, though, the worse it got. It went from gentle touches to. . . to more intimate shit."

"I'm so sorry, Gage." I breathed. He snickered, but his eyes were glued to the wall opposite of us, tears catching in his long lashes.

"He was a political figure too, you know. Way above my father and being a mayor, in fact, he helped Dad become the mayor. And I used to lay awake and think, who the hell would believe me? Did I really want to destroy the life my father had so meticulously built for himself?" he shook his head and sniffled. "What would be the point? Because at the end of the day it's the entire world against me. That's why I stopped caring, Marley. That's why I act like this. Because I'm not living for them anymore, I'm living for me."

I bowed my head stared at his hand clenching and unclenching against his lap beside me. "I'm so sorry."

I felt him shrug beneath me before he continued. "After my attempt my parents started to disagree on a lot. My mom, she knew something was wrong with me, something far more than just their constant arguing and my father's infidelity. My dad was too concerned and caught up in his own bullshit to care. So she packed our bags one night and we left. She made me promise our first night at the apartment that if I ever felt the urge again, that if I had anything I needed to tell her, that I would come to her. But I didn't. Because I couldn't. Because as much as she hated my father, she loved me, and she would tell him what his brother had done to me. Being away form them helped, I could finally breathe again."

He dropped his head and finally acknowledged my presence again and touched my cheek, whispering, "I would never, ever, wish what I fell inside on anyone. I can't even imagine having a video out there of the. . . the traumatic event. That's why I'm asking you to hurt me instead of yourself. Because I'm finally strong enough to take it, you're still in the beginning stages of it."

I rested my head against his chest. "I can't. I. . . I can't keep living like this. I feel him. I smell him. Some days I can feel him choking the life out of me all over again and when I blink I find him in the doorway."

His breathing and words were as strained as my own. "You can. You will, Marley. You can't let him win."

"I don't want to be here anymore."

He hugged me tightly against him, and I don't know what broke me more. The catch in his voice or the words that caused them.

"You can't go. You can't do it. I need you. Do you fucking hear me, Mar? I need you."

**

Something about the constant arguments Rodger and my mother had been in the last few weeks made my heart hurt. They'd always been such a calm, loving couple. Never disagreeing, always compromising. Now they were constantly waging war on one another because of their differences in parenting, and I couldn't help but feel as though it was all my fault too.

That was confirmed when I got home from school and heard them yelling from their room at the end of the hall. Against my better judgement, I walked down the hall and stopped just outside the door and leaned against the wall.

"She's just going through a phase." my mother insisted angrily. "All teenagers go through it! Where they hate life, hate their parents, fall into depression. I did! You did!"

"You don't think it's more than that?" Rodger's voice was strangely calm. "She tried to kill herself for Christsake, Anne. I know I sure as hell never went that far."

My mom is quiet for a few minutes before she says, "I think that she's angry with me. For marrying you, for forcing her to move in here with you and Louis, after her father died."

"Did you ever talk to her about it? About Michael's death? Or did you just tell her?"

"What are you insinuating, Rodger?"

"You never talk to her, Anne, and you wonder why she won't come to you!" his voice rises steadily. "You know why I think you can't see how much she's struggling? Because you don't want to! You don't want to think that its possible that she's miserable, that she's hurting, that she is following in Michael's footsteps. You refuse to accept it!"

I even winced a little and looked to the carpet under my shoes, listening intently as my mother answered.

"What am I supposed to do? Turn back time and make her not go to that fucking party, Rodger? I understand she's struggling from the rape, from it being posted everywhere. But I've done everything I possibly can!"

"Have you?" Rodger snaps. "All you've done is force her out of the house, into that support group, into therapy twice a week, and you punish her for not attending classes and spending time with her boyfriend. Did you ever stop for a minute and ask yourself why she isn't going to her classes? Why she's terrified to step foot in that school? Would you, Anne? Would you want to go back there after a sexual video of you is sent to every single of your peers?"

My mom let out a frustrated growl. "I don't have a choice, Rodger! We can't afford a private school and neither of us are here enough for her to be homeschooled."

"Something is going on with her and Louis." he changed the subject and I straightened, my heart starting to race.

"Excuse me?" Mom replied. "What the hell do you mean by that?"

Rodger must have moved closer to the door because his voice is clearer now. "The look on her face, Anne, every time he walks into the room or touches her, she looks terrified."

"You think he hit her?" mom stated aloud.

Rodger doesn't say a word, but this has my mother sputtering words, "Rodger, you can't possibly think it's beyond that."

"She's fucking terrified of my son, Anne!" Rodger screamed and I jumped away from the door. "I don't think a slap across the face or a shove is going to make someone that scared."

"No. No, Lou wouldn't do that to her, he's a sweetheart."

My mother must truly be blind.

"She won't talk to me." Rodger eventually responds to her. "And she looks like she wants to, Anne, she really does. But she's so so scared."

I didn't stay to hear what my mother responded with, and though the urge to take a blade to myself was my first thought as I headed back for the front door, I was going to try and stay true to my promise.

I hated myself, God, I hate myself with such a passion it's a miracle I'm still here. But I don't think I could handle it if Gage hated me too, if April lost the one person she'd let in. I had to stay here, no matter if it was only long enough to help them through their own shit. They needed me.

I needed them.