They both look at each other then back at me, unreadable expressions. Blaze squeezes my hand supportively and his mom nods at me with an understanding smile, pity hiding in the tiny creases of her tired skin.

This is it.

The first time I've ever properly spoken about what happened to my momma and how he ripped my family apart...how he ripped me apart.

When I was living in care homes they tried to make me talk about everything, that night especially. They wanted me to tell the police what happened, as obvious as it was, but I made myself so secluded trying to block it out of my mind it ate me alive. It still does. Maybe if I talk to them the nightmares will stop, the pain will lessen unshackling me from the grief and guilt.

"I-uh-I was born in Illinois. Obviously. I am the oldest of two girls... was the oldest." My heart clenches, I really don't know how to approach this. I feel like it's going to just come out in one big waffled mess. my palms sweat more than humanly possible and my heartbeat is loud, beating like a drum. "It was me and my sister, Lucy, she was seven years younger than me but... that didn't matter. She had blue eyes that would twinkle in the sun and she'd always wear her hair in braids, brunette braids with ribbon... she had his hair, not mine and my mommas." I breathe recalling her dancing around our bedroom in one of my tutus, braids flying around her freckled face.

"My momma was originally a dancer. She flew around the world as part of several royal companies as a Prima Ballerina Assoluta after she graduated from Julliard. That title is only awarded to the most notable female dances, it's an extremely rare honour and my mom was amongst the fourteen women who have been graced with the title. If you dance. You know who she was, she was ballet royalty." I let out a strained chuckle. The rare title, taken to the ground. "In fact, the only thing I thank my birth dad for is that he made me take my mom's last name, it's the one thing I can still hold onto with pride. The girls I've danced with used to fawn over my last name, always asking for time with my momma." I don't realise the tears have already started until Blaze wipes them from my face with the calloused pads of his thumbs, I smile nervously and sniffle, "Can I uh... borrow your phone?" I ask nodding towards his phone laying idly on the kitchen island next to a plate of cold toast. He slides it across after he unlocks it and I type in my momma's name to google with shaky fingers.

Evie Grove

Pictures of her flood the screen. Some with dramatic stage makeup and others her natural tone, pointe shoes secured around her feet, mid-flight in the air. Poise. Elegance. Talent. Beauty. She dazzled on the stage in her many costumes. My cheeks are slick like the banks of a river as I turn to show them. They take the phone and scroll down, their eyes glassing over in admiration.

"She was incredible. She captivated everyone and was such an amazing woman to be around, you'd never find anyone with a bad word against her. she was the kind everyone got along with or went to for help, she lit up a room when she walked in... then she met my dad." The air turns cold and they look up from the phone, just the very mention turns the taste in my mouth sour.

"She used to say she fell in love with his smile and charm, he would bring her flowers after every show and carry her home, no matter how far, so she could rest her blistered feet. Although, I'm never sure how true that was, whether it was a figment of her imagination she concocted wishing that was the real man she loved. Only after a few months of dating, he proposed to her and she said yes. She was young and impressionable- scratch that- she was vulnerable and receptive to manipulation." The words scratch the roof of my mouth, spat from my lips.

"My mom and her parents argued profusely over it. They ended up falling out majorly, they didn't like my dad- they had this weird sixth sense about him. That's what my mom would say anyway but I think they could just see who he really was beneath the mask. They tried to warm my mom off him several times but being the strong-willed woman she was she ignored them, she thought she was in love with him and nothing would stop that. They told her if she married him then they'd never talk to her again. So she got married... I think part of her was scared if she didn't marry my dad she'd have lost her family anyway and have no one. She didn't say much about my grandparents but they were never that supportive of her, they had a strained relationship anyway and I've gathered they're not the kind of people to forgive and forget, even their daughter." My mom always got emotional when I asked about my grandparents, she liked to change the conversation subject as quickly as she could without being cruel.

"But after they got married my dad told her the only way their marriage would work was If they moved back to where he was from- Illinois. My mom refused at first since New York was her home and it was where she worked, built a name for herself, she was adamant she'd never leave her home. Illinois was right across the other side of the country and she was scared but he told her he'd divorce her if she didn't... he told her he would leave her with nothing, said he 'couldn't live without her and manipulated her into going with him." I mock disgust wiping my face painfully, not overly concerned with the red blotches forming on my skin. I don't care at this point. I don't even look up to gauge their reactions, too afraid of what comes next. " He said if she really loved him she could work from wherever so they packed up and left for Illinois. I think it was fine at first, they moved into a place and my mom continued to work as a dancer just flying out more and spending longer hours at work. My dad started to get annoyed by that, he didn't like how she was constantly flying around the world, leaving him at home when he refused to go with her anyway and he got jealous of the male leads she would have to dance with. He'd accuse her of having affairs with them and constantly checked her phone, demanded updates every second she was away. He told her to get a normal job and.... I'm not sure when he started hurting her but I can presume it was when she refused. She didn't want to stop doing what she lived for and she couldn't divorce him. she was alone, her parents turned their backs on her, he drove all her friends away. She was in a new state and completely alone, so she gave into the beatings."

"It didn't really matter at that point though because she got pregnant with me meaning she had to stop dancing and whilst she was pregnant moved onto do some choreographing. My dad never wanted kids and that's when the problems started getting much worse... when I was born he took out the resentment on us both, he would leave me alone and take my mom out against her will, he never looked after me, made sure to be out of the house during the day probably out drinking. He forced my mom to stop dancing completely, said I was her mess she could deal with the consequences. Growing up... his resentment got worse, he blamed me for taking my momma away from him and with that came 'punishments'. He'd hurt my mom first so she wasn't able t-to get to me... then...h-hurt me whilst she was... unconscious."

My throat constricts and I feel sick. The images of my momma unconscious on the floor flick through my mind. I push the bile down my throat determined to carry on but it scorches and I want my mind to shut off. It hurts. It really hurts.

"My momma... she tried to stop him... she tried to stop him hurting me but she... she got it even worse." The tears flow down my face, dripping onto my shirt, I hold my face in my hands quickly feeling Blaze's arms snake around me, I try to muffle to soft sobs but they break up my raw throat. his arms tighten and I revel in the warmth, I revel in having Blaze with me.

"My mom re-trained as a nurse to please him after I was born and when I showed interest in ballet she became my teacher. She taught me from the minute I could walk, everything I know comes from her. It was the most special thing in the world dancing alongside her and as I got older everything became dance, she'd teach me, take me to classes, come to my cheer practice, come to recitals but the better I got... the worse the pain got at home for us both. He hated it. Convinced I was ruining his marriage. He'd spend hours beating us... until.... until we were both crying on the floor." I spit out the last words with such spite, everything about him makes my blood boil, the rage coils through me and if not dampened I do more damage to myself than the memories.

"Then... she got pregnant with my sister Lucy. It wasn't planned and completely threw my dad over the edge. He... he was animalistic... every punch was harder ever kick was bone-shattering... my momma never stopped smiling, through it all. Right up to the... end." I take a shaky breath, the deafening thump from my heart building until it's all I can hear. Sweat gathers on the back of my neck but my mouth feels dry, my tongue a heavy iron weight ... it still torments me to this day. " It just kept getting worse and I grew up... thinking his kind of behaviour was normal... when I started at the dance academy, it wasn't cheap and it was just another reason to inflict pain on us all, he still kept up that I was the one tearing our family apart, all the money and time and love my mom gave me."

"One day... one day... my mom came to get me from school... she picked Lucy and I out of our dance classes and it was weird because it was midday... we never left school early and we rarely had sick days either. Once we were in the car she started driving like a madwoman, she finally told us she was leaving my dad and taking us back to New York, she wanted to make amends with her parents and get us out of such a toxic environment. You could see the guilt of what she thought she'd put us through heavy on her face. Our stuff was already packed when we got to the house and we were ready to go but... my dad... he got tipped off my mom was planning to leave him and he came home from work early. When he stepped inside...he... he had this emotionless face that could draw shivers out of anyone. he didn't look scared or angry, in fact, his lips curled ever so slightly and he simply locked the door..." I choke on the words in my mouth... bile rushing up my throat coating my tongue in acid.

I don't want to talk about it!

I don't want to talk about it!

I can't talk about it!

My breathing quickens and I find myself grappling for the ledge of the kitchen counter as the room spins around me, black spots dotting my vision as wet trails crawl down my cheeks.

"Atlas. Deep breathes honey." I can see Blazes, mom, in front of me but I squeeze my eyes shut trying to block out the images from that night.

"S-sorry." I tremble. Warm calloused palms hold my cheeks.

"Blondie. Listen to me. You don't have to beat yourself up over this, you don't have to do this but nothings going to happen if you do. You're safe." Blazes whispers in my ear stroking my arms ladened with goosebumps. He's giving me a route out. Take it!

But you'd be keeping things from him. He deserves more.

"No...No... please I- I have to do this." I open my eyes, they both look at me sympathetically and I cringe, "P-please don't give me sympathy... I'm not the one who deserves it." Their eyes furrow in confusion so I take that as a chance to carry on with the last moment of our journey, " When he found out my mom was leaving him... he... he...oh god." I cup my face in my hands sobbing into them, Blaze pulls my hands away from my face, wiping the wet splodges on my cheeks and brings me into his chest.

"I'm not always this pathetic.... I promise." I whine with a hoarse sound.

"You're not pathetic love, you're brave. Take your time, it's okay to cry." Helen coos sitting back in her seat just across the table, breakfast long forgotten about.

"O-okay. So uh... once he found out..he... he beat her for hours and hours making me and my sister... watch." I gulp through odd whines and putrid taste in my mouth, "Then he reversed it and made her.... watch us... and him hurting us. It was reversed again, until my momma couldn't take much more. I can still see the look in her eyes, the defeat she felt as she reached out for my hand, bruised and broken. You couldn't even recognise her face anymore... it was so... hurt. When she was close to passing out my dad... he grabbed her off the floor and... and he held her in a tight hug. He was crying, hard. I'd never ever seen him like that and it scared me even more. He looked at me and my sister over his shoulder and then said to my momma 'If I can't have you then neither can anyone else.' Then.... Then he.... He... oh gosh.... He shot her. Twice." I cry recalling how loud the gunshots were, they still ring around my ears when I think about it. For months after I was awoken crying by the same sounds that plague my mind. "She... she collapsed on the floor and... I-I just held her as she bled out. I tried to stop it, I tried but there was- there was just so much blood." I hold out my tear-stained hands remember what it felt like to lift my hands off her bleeding body. Crimson red ran all the way down my arms and left sticky marks on my cheeks when I pushed my face into her dying warmth. The metallic smell of blood wafts under my nose tormenting me.

"Her-her lips got cold, blue and bloody, and I kept screaming at her but- she-she wouldn't come back. Her body was... it was limp in my arms... and at that moment- i-i- don't think I've ever been more terrified in my life because... my momma was gone. He'd taken her from me." My voice cracks and tremors allowing the tears to break through and river down my face. My body shakes. I can still feel her sometimes, lying in my arms. Her skin as white as snow and her body covered in a crimson too dark to be on any colour spectrum. " Then... then my sister... she came over to see if... if my mom was okay and... when she saw my moms body she started howling, crying, screaming frantically. She wouldn't stop. My dad used a pillow from the couch to try and get her to be quiet but... he... he ended up suffocating her. He had this wicked smile. I'll never be able to forget. The police came seconds after. EMTs stormed the room and I was dragged out and put in the back of an ambulance. The neighbour had heard the shots and called nine-one-one. He was stopped before I could go with them. It should have been me next. I should have gone with them!" I cry ragged breaths running in and out of my throat feel like water drowning me. It should have been me. My whole body shakes, trembling with the pain and memories. Blazes arms squeeze tighter around me and I feel him stroke my hair out of my wet face. I feel far away, his hands like a distant chain tying me down from floating off.

I've blocked out the room, feeling so numb. I've gone to that place in my head that contains all these memories. The ones that sat in a chest with the lock attached firmly too. I've got the key and I've finally let them loose, they now storm around me haunting me.

When I finally open my eyes and look up, Blazes moms face is an even paler shade than it was last night and Blaze has these angry lines running across his face, his vein pops out slightly on his neck and now I'm petrified he's mad at me.

"That's why I stopped dancing. It feels like it was my fault. Every time I tried to dance after that night I thought of her and felt guilty. I'd have these panic attacks mid routine or even just standing at the barre remembering her and then her final moments. I didn't stop dancing and I put us through all that pain, I killed them. I never thought I'd dance again." I sniffle, my eyes are screaming and are so swollen I'm surprised they're not clamped shut. Nobody says anything, Helen just clutches at her chest with an unexplainable reaction, "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have-I completely understand if you want me to go, my social worker-" The air's knocked out of me when she runs around the side and wraps her arms around me in a tight vice.

"Are you serious Atlas? I can't believe you even think we'd want you out." She rocks me slightly then pulls away putting me at arm's length keeping her boney fingers on my elbows, there are tears in her eyes as she speaks, "None of what happened was your fault. You know that don't you?" She searches my face desperately and I shrug. I've grown up being told it was my fault and when you're told that so many times... you start to believe it. Thats why I stopped dancing. "No. It wasn't your fault! I-I can't imagine how traumatic that must have been. I-I really don't know... what to say... You're an incredibly strong person, you hear me! The fact that you have kept going and held a smile on your face.... I just wished you'd have asked someone for help sooner." She paces around the kitchen pinching her chin, tears slip down her face, "Thank you for telling us, honey."

"Please don't cry" I wobble.

"Sorry- I just... I'm going to make some calls... I'll be back soon." She smiles but it doesn't meet her eyes then scuttles off to her room leaving me in the silence. Did I scare her or upset her? I turn to Blaze, his fists are balled and his eyes are squinted at the table. The veins in his neck tense and his jaw ticks.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry I didn't mean to upset her. I really didn't-" He pulls my head to his chest and wraps his arms around me, squeezing my organs as tight as he possibly can. I feel like a chip packet waiting to be popped open, my ribs protest but I don't care... he's hugging me... he can't be that mad at me can he? I press my face further into him, inhaling choppy breaths of his scent.

"I'm never going to let anyone hurt you. Ever again Blondie. Never." He murmurs into my hair. A sudden rush of tingles erupts in my core, and a weight I didn't know sat on me lifts making it easier to breathe. The way he spoke those very words, the intensity makes me feel safe, for once- those words don't sound like empty promises. Like for the first time in my life, everything is going to be okay.

We stayed in that position for a long time, neither of us wanting to let go. Blaze isn't one for words but this very gesture says more than any words could ever. "You know. She'd be so proud of you right now Butterfly. She'd be so so proud. What happened was not your fault, it is no one but his. It will never be your fault! The guilt you feel, it's lying to you. You shouldn't feel guilty, she's still here with you. She'll still be watching you in some way."

"I hope so. I just want to live our dream." I choke