As soon Lelani strolls out of my room, I bolt up from my bed, my stomach churning as I hurry my way into the bathroom. I slam the door shut behind me, afraid that even in my isolation someone might hear or see me in my troubled state. If there's one thing I've learned from my years in foster care, it's that to survive, you must never let anyone see your weaknesses because sometimes the wrong person comes around and they will use them to their advantage.

I scan my appearance in the mirror, and at this moment I wish that my skin wasn't my own. Dark, tired eyes stare back at me, taunting me with the past that they've known and seen and I tear away from them, no longer being able to bear the insecurity that they hold behind their stare. My complexion seems more tan since the last time I've had the chance to take a good look at myself, a direct result of the Hawaiin sun and day adventures spent with Lelani. Unfortunately, the changes aren't enough to mask or cover up the pinkish scar stretching across my side and they certainly aren't enough to keep her from noticing it either.

I yank the sink faucet on, needing to cool and wash off my clammy skin. My trembling hands splash the water against my face, hoping that the shock of cold is enough to bring me away from my chaotic thoughts. Today was incredible with Lelani, better than I could have ever imagined it being, and the last thing I ever wanted to do was end the night with my mind being anywhere else but with her. I was there until I just wasn't anymore.

A sharp twinge sears against the side of my abdomen, forcing me to clutch my hands against the stupid fucking mark that won't ever seem to leave my body. At this point, it's not even apparent to me whether this pain is actually physical or if it's a discomfort that manifests from my deepest subconscious. The ache persists and a wave of nausea comes over me, making my head dizzy. Through the blurriness of my sight, I lock my eyes back on my reflection in the mirror, only this time 16-year-old Brodie Dawson stares back at me.

"What in the hell do you even do back in those woods, huh?" Mia asks as she wipes off my fresh, new tender wound. The skin around the cut is swollen and red, but the bleeding has managed to somewhat stop.

"Nothing really," I mutter, having a hard time peeling my eyes away from the blonde hair streaming down the narrow features of her face as she continues to bandage my injury.

I'm not sure if it's the age gap between our main caregiver, Susan, and her, but Mia doesn't even share the slightest resemblance to her older sister. Her alluring and young, but mature features stood out from the day she walked into the group home, holding a Bachelor's degree in Social Work in her clutch at the young age of 23. Susan had expressed she needed more help taking care of all of us boys, and within a single call, Mia was at her side, happily willing to lend a hand.

"Mhmm. I don't believe that for a second," she giggles, cutting her gaze up to mine and making my breath hitch. Feeling caught, I pull my stare off of her, allowing my eyes to observe her neat, and yellow-toned room. House rules kept me from seeing it before now, but the bright tones of the painted walls were such a comforting contrast from any of the other rooms. Mia speaks back up, conjuring my attention once more, "You know I'm not going to tell on you, kid. So tell me, what's back in those woods that keeps you going back?"

"An escape," I sigh, finally feeling trusting enough to tell her the truth. "It's like my own personal paradise back there. Somewhere I can go to escape all the commotion. Sometimes it feels like I'm suffocating. In the woods, I can breathe again."

"Oh, Brodie," she whispers back, finishing up lining the edges of the gauze pad with tape. "I'm sorry you feel that way. I can't even begin to imagine what you must be going through, but trust me when I say, you're one of the good ones. You know that?"

Her words have me blushing, and my words stutter as I mutter back, "R-really? What do you mean?"

"I mean that you're special, Brodie and these circumstances won't last for long. You won't be trapped in this home forever. You're smart; hell, probably the brightest kid in here- don't you dare tell the other boys I said that," she teases.

"My lips are sealed," I chuckle.

"But seriously," she continues, "Before you know it, you're going to be heading off to college, living in the dorms, and having the time of your life. The girls are going to go crazy for you."

"Oh, whatever," I laugh her off, feeling my stomach dip.

"It's true. They'll lose it over that charm of yours. And those brown eyes." My heart feels like it's nearly beating out of my chest and I'm almost positive she can hear it as she peers up to me, still kneeling on the floor in front of me. Heat is already gathering on my neck and face, and my mind struggles to grasp whether or not what my ears are hearing is real or not. Mia's hand trails to my knee, her thumb brushing against the denim of my jeans as she chimes out, "Aww, kid, you're blushing. Has a girl never told you that before?"

My head is spinning, a variety of emotions coursing through my veins as the reality around me occurs faster than I can mentally comprehend. All of my senses are kicked into overdrive, making the smell of her cherry blossom perfume become stronger and her blue eyes appear brighter. I clear my throat, desperately attempting to keep my voice strong as I stumble out, "O-once before, but n-never a woman like you."

"Now you're just making me sound old," she jokes.

"Shit," I chuckle nervously, "I didn't mean it like that-"

"I know, I know," she reassures me, a huge grin starting to cross her face. "How old are you, Brodie?

"Sixteen."

"See," she assures, leaning closer towards me. "You're nearly eighteen. Once you hit that mark, age is just a number when it comes to relationships."

"R-really?" I ask naively. A group of footsteps trail outside of her bedroom door, startling me and making the moment between us not seem so private anymore. Mia draws her hand away from my leg. "I should probably get back to my room. If Susan catches me in here, I'm dead."

"Don't worry about her, she never comes into my room. You're free to hang out as long as you need to. Maybe you won't feel so suffocated in here."

"Maybe you're right," I smile. "I guess I can hang out for a little while more."

"Good," she chimes, "I like having your company."

Mia stands, crossing the floor and turning on the black and silver radio player in the other corner of the room. She turns up the stereo, swiveling back to me with a beautiful smirk playing across her lips, "You like 5 Seconds to Summer?"

"Oh," I perk up, feeling my shoulders still tense despite how badly I want my body to just relax. Not having registered the song yet, my ears finally focus on the melody of Youngblood playing from the speakers. "Y-yeah. T-they're c-cool."

"Come here, Brodie," she chuckles, offering out her hand for me to take. I accept, and she pulls me onto the hardwood floor with her, tugging me closer to her. Even at 16 years old, I still stand taller than Mia. Her hands grip against my shoulders, squeezing them playfully as she instructs, "Relax, kid. It's just me."

I nod my head eagerly, feeling too embarrassed by my nervousness to speak a proper response. She sways in front of me to the upbeat melody of the song, and it isn't long before I join her. Our silly moment helps ease my anxieties and we're both laughing as we begin to dance together. Before now, I've never had the chance to experience a light-hearted moment with an adult, and Mia's fun spirit was contagious.

Feeling bold, I take a hold of her hand, guiding it as I twirl her underneath my arm. By the end of the spin, her body is pressed against my chest and my lungs start to feel as though they're no longer working. Mia rests her palms against my collar bones, and I can hear her every breath as she trails her fingers back to the nape of my neck.

Being completely unaware of what's going on and completely unsure of how to respond, the only thing I can manage to do is gulp back the wad of spit gathering in my mouth. Her blue eyes wear a solemn gaze as she locks them into mine. "You really are one of the good ones, Brodie."

Within the next second her mouth is on mine, and even though I'd be a liar to say that the droolboy in me has never played with this scenario in my head, something about it feels wrong. I draw away from the kiss, bringing my fingers up to the burning spot that her lips just occupied. "I'm sorry," I mutter, pathetically. "I- I should probably go."

"Is that what you really want to do?"

The question has my mind spinning because regardless of how sure I was when I said it, now I'm contemplating whether or not I meant that. Mia just kissed me. Young, blonde, beautiful Mia just kissed me and I should be swooning right now, shouldn't I? I should want her hands to never leave me, but for some reason, I'm wishing they never touched me, to begin with.

"I think so," I hush out, feeling extremely confused.

My mind is totally muddled, and her hands are back on me again but I don't say anything. I just stand there idle, too stuck in bewilderment to move away or even physically respond. "Relax, kid. I'm not going to tell on you...

The nausea brewing in my stomach has me gagging, and I heave over the toilet bowl unable to keep myself from vomiting at the sickening memory. When I'm finished getting sick, I flush away the shameful remnants, gasping for air as I shakily bring myself to stand back up against the sink vanity.

"What the fuck," my voice quavers as I curse under my breath, hating myself for something that isn't even my fault.

My reflection is older again as it stares back at me, and I resent it for the way it couldn't have helped me before. I'm frustrated at myself for being so naive and stupid. I'm angry for not having the bravery to say no or to leave the room. I detest the way that my trauma comes back into the forefront of my mind without having permission, and the way it sometimes makes me feel like the loneliest soul in this whole entire fucking world. Scratch that, this whole entire fucking universe. Because as badly as I cry out on the inside, no one on the outside can hear me and even if they did, I would be chastised to silence.

At just 16 years old, my consent was completely stolen away from me and the thief who took it escaped without any consequences; she escaped and carried away a part of me that I'll never get back. My reward for being a naive and manipulated teenage kid is a stupid goddamn scar and a lifetime full of emotional and mental torment. Despite the few times I've tried reaching out for help, I've never received justice for what happened to me and I've just recently come to terms with that; but what else should I expect? I'm a male. I should be honored and grateful for what happened to me, right? I should be happy to have received something that other men would kill for, right? I had to have asked for it, right?

No.

I'm not honored and grateful for what happened to me. I'm not happy to have received something that other men would kill for because some days it's made me feel like I'm dying inside. Most of all, no I didn't ask for it. No one ever asks for it; no matter what the circumstances. No one's ever given a goddamn fucking say or opinion on the matter.

When I think about it all, though, I think the worst part is that I don't know if I'll ever be able to completely heal from what happened to me. I don't know if I'll ever be able to look past the physical and emotional scar that I'm forced to live with. I don't ever want my wounds to bleed out on anyone else around me, especially Lelani. So, I'll continue to keep the truth buried beneath the surface because some secrets don't deserve to ever come to the surface. Some secrets don't earn the privilege of coming into the light, and I'll do my best to keep mine hidden beneath the dark.

I, Brodie Dawson, am a sexual assault survivor, and I may not have had a choice before, but I do now, and I refuse to let what happened to me define me. Lelani is too goddamn special for me to allow that to happen.

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