“when you told me the whole story, i felt like throwing up.”

you and bev were at the barrens, smoking cigarettes as you sat in silence.

bev had called you here on the verge of tears. when you arrived, she had a new bruise across her cheek, but she wasn’t crying anymore. you had suspected that her father was hitting her and after confronting her about it, she agreed to tell you.

“so..” bev begins hesitantly, taking another drag from her cigarette. “yes, he hits me.”