Concealed

Gracie yawned into the side of her pillow, feeling absolutely exhausted after the day she had with her family. It was late; possibly two in the morning if she had to have guessed. Ethan was passed out beside her sleeping silently. The two teenagers had spent a few hours lying in bed comfortably and watching a scary movie on Gracie's television that hung on the wall across the room from her bed. The reason she wasn't asleep yet wasn't because she was scared of the movie Ethan had picked. She wasn't asleep because she was afraid she would have another nightmare, and she knew that if she did it would be bad with Ethan lying beside her.

She wanted to never sleep again if that meant she didn't have nightmares anymore. No more bad dreams meant no more questions as to why she was having those sorts of dreams. Of course she knew that not sleeping was not an option. Sooner or later she would fall asleep, and there was always a possibility of having another nightmare. Gracie knew she would just have to learn to accept it.

She knew that she could possibly open up about her dreams and maybe that would help, but it would only cause more frustration, drama, and tension between her parents, Michelle, and everyone else. She was sure they would agree with her mom and say she was lying, and that was something she didn't want. Her relationship was now ruined with mom's family because of it; she wasn't going to allow the same thing to happen between her and the Avenged family. They meant everything to her and she was not about to risk losing them.

Gracie sighed out and rolled over onto her back. She was beginning to feel sleepy but she refused to close her eyes, because closing her eyes meant she was definitely going to drift off to sleep. After a few minutes, she made sure Ethan was asleep before climbing out of bed carefully, not wanting to wake him. She headed out of the room, down the stairs, and into the living room. The house was just about pitch black dark besides the full moon shining in through the window, making the house glow with a natural light.

She rubbed her eyes and collapsed back against the couch. The cold leather felt good against her arms and legs. Gracie sighed out softly as her mind dwelled on the past.

Lindsey's eyes narrowed sharply at the young teenager as she stood up abruptly from the couch. “Gracie,” She warned.

Gracie used the sleeve of her jacket to wipe away a tear that started to fall from her chocolate colored eyes. “Why can't you just listen to me for once, mom?”

“No,” The older woman's voice hissed, “I refuse to sit here and listen to these lies that you've concocted.”

“I'm not lying!” Gracie exclaimed, “And the fact that you don't believe me fucking pisses me off.”

Lindsey crossed her arms over her chest, “Don't you dare curse at me, Gracie Haner. I will not tolerate that kind of language in this house. It's disrespectful.”

The young teenager shook her head as she looked away from her mom who was glaring straight at her, “This is unbelievable!”

“You're right, it is,” Lindsey agreed with her, “I'm shocked you would accuse Tommy of such a thing. He would be terribly upset to know about this.”

Gracie looked up at her mom with wide eyes, “You can't tell him, mom!”

“And why not? I think he needs to know what his beloved niece is accusing him of.”

“But mom, he'll—“

“Stop it already, Gracie!” Lindsey shouted as she started to walk away, “I don't want hear another word about this!”

A hand suddenly came in contact with Gracie's shoulder, pulling her back into reality. She flinched away and looked over her shoulder to find her dad staring at her with concerned filled eyes. She swallowed hard as he opened his mouth to speak. No words came out though, so he closed his mouth back before breathing in deeply. He wasn't sure what to say to Gracie, and she wasn't sure what to say to him.

Brian walked around the couch before sitting down beside her. She leaned into him, feeling as if she were about to burst into a random tear fest. She tried to hold herself together though, knowing that two nights in a row of crying hysterically over something that her dad didn't even know about would raise even more questions that she could not for the life of her answer.

“You know, when you were a little girl, before your mom and I separated, I used to tuck you into bed and tell you a bedtime story every night when I wasn't touring with the band.”

Gracie attempted to smile, “I remember that.”

“Do you remember when you were eight, and one night after watching a scary movie you were afraid that something would try and eat you in the middle of the night?” He asked.

She nodded, “How could I forget? That was the only time I was ever afraid of anything at bedtime.”

“Do you remember what I told you that night?”

Gracie bit down on her lip as she thought back to that fond memory before shaking her head, “Not really.”

“I didn't think so, but that's okay. I didn't expect you to,” He said before continuing on, “I sat you down and I explained to you that no monster or person would ever hurt you because I could protect you from anything.”

She finally smiled softly, the memory of that talk coming back to her. “And at first I didn't believe you, but then you convinced me that it was true because the amount of love you felt for me was more than enough to help protect me.”

“So you do remember?” He chuckled softly.

“Now, yes.”

He became quiet for a moment before a slightly bitter laugh left his lips, “I shouldn't have made a promise to you like that, Gracie. Not when I knew that I could never keep it.”

Gracie leaned upright and turned to her dad, giving him an odd look, “I don't understand. What's this all about anyhow?”

He looked at her, their same colored eyes connecting with one another's, “Someone hurt my baby, didn't they?”

It was at that moment when Gracie froze, a bone chilling silence drifting between them as she searched her brain for something to say in response. But even when she came up with a lie, she found herself not able to speak as if her lips were sewn shut with a thick piece of thread.

“And I promised...I promised I would protect you. So naturally you believed me, and you grew up thinking that you were okay and nothing could hurt you but a skinned knee or a paper cut,” He shook his head with a sigh, “when in reality that was just a load of fucking bull shit.”

Gracie could tell just by looking at him that he had sort of already figured it all out. Maybe not who had hurt her, but most likely what had happened to her, which terrified Gracie more than ever. How could he know after spending barely three days with her? The bigger question though, was would he believe who did it if she opened her mouth and spilled about everything?

“Who hurt you, Gracie?” He finally asked her the one question he was truly curious to know the answer to.

“I...I don't—I can't...you—no...“ Her eyes started to water with frustration seeing as she couldn't just open her mouth and speak without a lump getting caught in her throat.

“Shh,” He hushed, “It's okay, Sweetheart.”

“It's not okay!” She finally choked out through the tears that had started to silently slip down her cheeks. “It's not okay, dad.”

Gracie didn't want to admit it. Not to him, not to anyone, especially after what had happened when she told her mom. How was she to know that it wouldn't be different and that she wouldn't get the same reaction? She simply didn't, which is what kept her from speaking the truth at that moment. She couldn't let it slip, she couldn't blurt it out, and she most certainly couldn't allow her dad to know the truth, whether he believed her or not. She needed to bury her secret deep inside of her and lock it away, while hoping her mom didn’t spill to her dad about what she had told her.