*Disclaimer: This chapter has references to self harm and suicidal idealisation.*

After watching the sunset with Jackson and him showing me some constellations of stars that I tried my best to see, he had taken me home. He had come in for a little bit, happy to see my parents and chat for a while. But eventually excused himself saying that he should probably head home so his parents wouldn't worry.

Things um, got bad in the night... 

I woke up screaming, utterly hysterical over a stupid nightmare. I remember screaming in my dream trying to get away from him but I didn't realise I was  literally screaming in real life too.

I haven't had dreams like that before. Not really. 

The screaming had woken my parents up and apparently utterly terrified them. I hadn't slept since then, that was about 3AM and my mum had decided to sleep next to me for the remainder of the night.

I decided to work on the thing Dr Halpin asked me to do, the whole write it all down thing.

Which probably was a really bad idea. But my brain was already running over everything again, trying to torture me. So I thought I might as well just try and get it all down. 

So it's now 8Am and I'm sat in my kitchen writing all the horrible shit that happened down in an old notebook just waiting for my parents to wake up and come down stairs.

The memories come alive in my brain as I conduct them on the paper. And every ounce of my soul wants to stop writing, to stop telling this horrible, graphic story. I hate that I am so alone in this that nobody truly understands what happened, that not even Layton is here to admit what he did.

And as I write it all, as I tell the fucked up story. I sort of realise I dont think he knew what he was doing. 

I mean he did. 

He pinned me down. Attacked me. 

He knew I didn't want to. 

But I keep remembering the look in his eyes and I am not sure he was fully there. I am not convinced it was the same Layton that I spent time with in a group of our friends. 

But what does that fucking mean?

What does that mean?

What does it mean?

Does it mean anything?

Not really. 

I am physically exhausted by the time that my mum comes down to make breakfast. Her eyes are concerned when she asks me what I am doing.

"Writing in a journal. You think I can be that bitch? Dear Diary, my life is fucked up?"

Her concern increases. "How are you doing babe?" She asks as she squeezes my shoulders as she walks past me to the other side of the kitchen. Obviously I fucking flinch away from her touch. Clearly indicating how I was feeling.

I feel as if his hands are still all over my body, the way I tried to fight them off but to no avail. Why on earth wasn't I stronger?

My body hurts like the bruises are still there. 

And they're not. 

They're gone. 

But I can still feel them. 

Honestly I might be sick. 

"Ivy." My mum says gently, getting my attention and I snap out of my thoughts. Still feeling so uncomfortable in my own skin. 

"Yeah?"

"Are you ok to go to school today? You had a really rough night."

"I am aware of the night I had." I snap and I know I should immediately feel bad at her face. But I don't. To be honest I dont really feel much other than uncomfortable. 

But I know I should feel bad. So I apologise. 

Fuck I really don't feel anything right now. 

"Sorry, yeah I'm fine I just need someone to drive me." I say, I wish I could stay home but my grades are struggling a little with the amount of time I have had off and I did promise the girls I would cheer with them. I have no idea how I am going to do that today though. But I'm just going to have to suck it up. 

I just want life to be back to normal. 

Cheering is normal. 

"Your dad Is leaving in ten if you want a lift then." She looks at my appearance, I must look a disaster. "Or you can go and shower and I'll drop you off, I'm leaving at half past."

I don't want to wash. 

Or change. 

But she is looking at me like I should. 

And i feel like I should trust that right now. 

"Ok, I'll be down in a half an hour." I say as I close my notebook and head upstairs. I was pretty much done with the description anyway. I just needed to explain about after, about how everyone thinks I willingly slept with Layton behind Jay's back. I feel like that's part of the trauma too.

Trauma. It's such a random word. 

I feel sick. 

Like down to my bone. Sick. 

In my bedroom I try to avoid the mirrors, knowing now that my own body has become a trigger. How mental is that, my own skin sparking these painful memories? 

So I skip past the mirrors and turning on the shower. 

I undress in the shower. 

I dont know why. But I leave my wet clothes in a lump at the bottom of my shower and I just stare at them as the water starts to penetrate my skin. 

 I feel so exposed stood here naked, exposed to who I don't know.

I feel like he can see me. 

I wish I could shower in the dark. 

Fuck I-

My own hands were on my body and I want to tear them off. Like get off me. Get off me. 

Get- 

I feel so fucking disgusting again. 

How do I feel like it just happened again?

I try to breathe, my skin literally feeling like it has a thick layer of contamination layered on top of it. 

So I wash. 

 Because showering was always helpful. The sensation of trying to scrub my skin clean of any remanence of him felt like I was cleansing myself. 

That what I learnt in biology about cells replacing themselves would happen quicker is I scrubed harder, washed with hotter water. 

I turn the hot tap as far as I could physically take it, needing to feel as if my skin wasn't burning because of his unsolicited touch but because of something I was doing, something I had control over. 

I wanted to burn away the memories that are etched into my skin. Because I can try and work on my brain getting over it all I want, but my body remembers.

I stayed in the shower for too long, I had the water too hot. I hadn't even really realised.

...

School is shitty. I am in pain. I burnt myself, I mean it's not bad, it's not even really noticeable. But my shoulders are blistered slightly and I thank god that I can get away with wearing a loose t shirt tucked into a high waisted Denim skirt today. My cheer uniform may be an issue, but I think the sleeves will cover all of the burns.

I sort of prefer the pain. The physical sensation of pain rather than the mental representation. 

I didn't mean to. I just wanted to scold the feel of his touch away. 

Plus the top layer of skin is what he touched. It's pretty much gone now from my shoulders. 

I'm sat in maths, Max and Jayden are sat in the row behind me and Nora. I still feel like I am going to be sick. I think that's anxiety. I guess? I can't really be this physically disgusted by myself, right? My head is being an asshole to me today. I am trying to keep my nerves under control. I don't want to deal with this bullshit anymore today.

My right leg is bouncing uncontrollably under the desk and I hate that all I want to do is leave the classroom.

The leg bouncing is making me feel even more sick. 

Fuck imagine if i just-

Ha. That wouldn't be funny but it sort of is too. 

I feel a little hysterical right now. 

Maybe I shouldn't be here. 

The question about whether Luca knows plays on my mind and I wonder if he would tell the guys what he knew. But as I carefullt watched their face as they entered the room, there was no reaction when they saw us. didn't react. Jayden didn't look at me, just glanced at Nora and then sat down permanently on his phone facing away from us.

"Where did you and Jackson go last night then?" Nora whispers to me.

Can I just ignore her?

"Ivy...?" She whispers again. 

"How'd you know about that?" I ask, keeping with her tone.

I hadn't told the girls that Jackson was taking me somewhere, I didn't want to have to try and justify that it was only friendly between us.

It was just friendship between us. I probably misinterpreted what he said last night, heard wrong even. He wasn't even speaking to me. Not really. He could have meant that he cared about me differently because he was worried about me whereas I wasn't worried about him. That's probably what he meant.

I was sort of worried about him though. 

He doesn't seem the most stable person. 

Right?

"Well you put the sunset on your story and I just wondered if you were with Jackson, and well looks like you were." She smirks at her detective work and I just role my eyes tiredly.

I don't reply, my brain is so out of it today I don't even remember if she was asking a question or what.

"Are you excited to cheer?" Nora changes the conversation topic but refuses to go quiet. I just want to get this work done.

"Not really."

"What why?" she almost gasps.

I shrug my shoulders and I can feel the material rubbing against the raw skin. I should really sort them out but I'm just in this sort of numb state that I don't really care. The pain is better than thinking about Layton.

"Ivy?" Jay's voice startles both Nora and I. And before I can tell her to ignore him she turns her head, meaning I have to follow suit.

I squeeze my eyes together in exhaustion and then look back. 

"What?" I whisper back, wincing slightly as turning around on my seat is a little painful.

I had such a good night last night, I thought I had made so much progress. I was convinced that this pain would someday end last night, but now I feel stupid. I feel as if I was just kidding myself.

It wouldn't end right?

Not when I was here. 

Not when I had to see Jayden and Max and fucking Luca every single day. 

I have to see Luca's face everyday. 

It makes me feel fucking-

Jayden interrupts me-"I couldn't find my Drake hoodie in the bag you gave me? Do you still have it or?" He asks me this in the middle of a Math lesson. I mean it's independent work and all but surely, he could have just text me. Or just bloody forgotten about it.

It's one hoodie. 

Fuck off. 

"I don't have it." I grit out and turn promptly back around.

He doesnt give up. "Yeah, you do. It's not in my room and I know it was your favourite one." He says to the back of my head. 

Both my legs start jumping under the table. 

I swallow and try and ignore him. 

It's not in his room because it is in the police departments evidence locker. I had picked up that hoodie so I wasn't exposed whilst walking to the police station. I don't know why I didn't just phone them to come pick me up, that would have been probably easier.

It's because I was scared.

I don't feel too numb anymore. 

"Ivy?" 

I ignore him because my head right now has much bigger fish to fry. The vivid memory of Layton tearing my top away from me leaves me feeling exposed in the classroom even though I am fully dressed.

I hate this all so much.

I hate them all as well.

"Ivy?" Jayden says again, his hand poking my back. His touch would have/should have been considered gentle. But the familiarity of his hand jolts me out of my seat. Pain spreading down my back due to the suddenness of my movements and the way he had touched my blistered skin.

"Stop. Jayden. Please." I say loudly, gathering the eyes of the whole class.

"Miss James, please sit back down." The teacher scolds me. I look at her pleadingly, overwhelmed how the whole classes attention is now on us.

"What are you doing?" Nora asks, pulling slightly on my arm to get me to sit back down.

"Get off of me." I say louder than I meant to, my voice breaking a little and as I lift my eyes back to our teacher I am met with eyes of sudden understanding.

"Miss James, I won't have this behaviour in my class, go and see Mrs Granger please." She has given me an excuse to get out and I don't hesitate for a second.

Grabbing my bag, I forget all the stuff on my desk, hoping someone will grab it for me later, and I go to walk out.

"Ivy wait." Jayden calls, standing up too and I actually pause. I pause because I wish I- 

I wanted someone right now. 

I look at him and he looks at me so fucking confused and I shake my head because I realise he is not who I want. 

So I leave and as I go I feel as if my heart is sitting inside my throat, blocking my airways and making my eyes water. I refuse to cry, nothing even happened. Why am I upset?

Math is literally next door to the main offices so I didn't have to walk far to get to Mrs Granger. I knew I was on the verge of tears, I actually felt like I couldn't breathe. I don't think I had since I had left maths, trying to keep my emotions at bay.

Today was a mistake. I shouldn't have come here after such an intense night, after only getting two hours of sleep. After writing down everything Layton had done to me. I am so stupid.

Knocking on her office door I can't bring myself to look in. For some reason extremely embarrassed for the state I am in, extremely embarrassed that I snapped at Nora in front of everyone, embarrassed because if Mrs Granger isn't available right now, I don't know what to do.

The door opens and Mrs Granger's head pops out, inquiring into who had knocked on her door and then hid behind it.

My face is turned away from her facing the ground, my tears blurring my vision.

"Ivy." She states in surprise. I lift my eyes to they meet hers and her face morphs into one of confusion to one of concern. I hadn't come and seen her this morning, already feeling fragile and I didn't want to set anything off. I just wanted to have a normal day.

She guides me into her office being careful not to actually touch me, knowing obviously that I am on the edge.

"Take a seat, honey. I will grab you some water."

I do as she says, my head starting to spin due to the fact that I had been holding my breath most  of this time.

"Are you ok?" She asks me that stupid question, and I glare at her through my watery eyes.

"I- "

But with my sad attempt at talking I am ashamed to admit I broke down.

I cried a lot, as in I sobbed. I sobbed about the fact that my body still remembers vividly what he felt like and I sobbed over the fact that even the good days like yesterday can't fight off the bad days.

That there was no reason to wake up screaming and terrify my parents last night but I had done that anyway.

I hyperventilated into my knees as she told me to take a few deep breaths and as I looked up at her through all my mess I must have given her a 'the world is ending' look. 

She turned that sign around on the door and locked it.

The sound of a locking door triggering memories of Layton doing the same thing. I was convinced he had done it to hid ourselves from the police. He was just doing it so he could keep me there until the police and everybody was gone.

I try to say that she couldn't lock the door but I couldn't speak through my tears, not having enough oxygen in my lungs to even form the words anyway. Panic attacks feel as if you are going to die.

I feel like I am going to die. 

To be honest that would be better. 

Because I feel like that is the only thing that would stop all this. 

I used to be able to sleep it off. 

But the terror has seeped into the safety of my dreams and what else do I have?

Ha should I tell her I want to die. 

Fuck that's so unnecessarily dramatic. 

I am fine. 

Mrs Granger crouches beside me, her hand reaching to give me physical comfort but my whole body flinches away from her during my hysterics.

"Let it out Ivy, these walls are soundproof, the blinds are drawn and it is only you and me here. Cry and shout all you need to."

I continue to cry and sob into my hands. I was a mess but for the first time I stopped fighting it and just let myself cry until there was physically nothing left.

Because if i didnt do this here. I would do it at home when I was alone. 

And I feel like that would be a dangerous idea for me right now. 

So much for feeling numb.

We were sat in silence, Mrs Granger leant on her desk opposite my chair waiting for me to say something. I honestly had nothing I wanted to say. Nothing I could say.

I reach for the water she had placed in front of me and try and steady my shaking hands whilst I bring it tentatively to my lips.

My skin is itchy. 

I want to scratch at it. 

Fucking hell I don't think it's been this bad before. 

Not even straight after. 

I just- I really do wanna die. Like it's just in my head. Staying still as everything else swirls around it. 

She's just staring at me. 

So try to explain. 

"Jayden wants his hoodie back the one the police have, then he touched my shoulders and then Nora touched me and I had a nightmare last night and I keep feeling as if Layton is in the room with me, I can physically feel the things he did to me and that's mainly because had to write it all down today but then also I hurt my back and I have to do cheer and today is just a lot."

Mrs Granger looks at me sympathetically and nods "That is a lot." She pauses and cocks her head a little. "What did you do to your back?"

I am immediately embarrassed, ashamed that I accidentally harmed myself. "Nothing."

"Ivy?"

I sigh. "I burnt it, I don't think it's too bad I can't actually see..."

"How did you burn it?" She asks clearly confused.

"Layton. Um. Shower. Um." My head is all over the place and I feel as if I'm admitting to a crime.

"What happened Ivy?" She asks gently.

"It was an accident."

"I'm sure it was, what did you do?"

"The shower was too hot."

She waits for me to elaborate, pausing before she asks me anything else.

"Sometimes, when I'm overwhelmed with Layton I want to shower. And usually taking a hot shower just makes me feel better but today I was just really freaked and I turned it all the way. I didn't realise it would actually blister."

"How bad are the blisters?" she asks me

"I don't really know."

"Have you dressed them with anything?"

I shake my head no. I have just been trying to ignore the pain. Why am I honestly so stupid?

"Can we take a look? We can walk over to the nurse's office together and see if we can dress them here for you?"

I shake my head stubbornly, I don't want to get undressed in front of anybody. I don't want the fuss.

"Ivy. I am strongly suggesting we go over there. I can't force you and I don't want to threaten you or anything but these types of self-harm injuries are something that I may have to talk to the crisis team about."

"I don't self harm what the hell?" I look at her confused. 

"Self-harm comes in a lot of shapes and sizes. It is nothing to be ashamed about, we define it here as when a young person injures themselves as a way of dealing with very difficult emotions, in your case painful memories."

"I didn't mean to though." I say.

"I believe you, that's why I'm not going to take this further. But I really need to make sure you are ok. We need to dress those burns."