Kelly shifted anxiously on her feet, listening attentively to what Kayla had to say. This was her house after all. One wrong move and Travis would probably literally throw her out the door. As much as she wanted to 'try and get on her feet', she had no clue how to. She had planned on suffering on the streets for a long while because the only way she could survive would be living on the edges and stealing here and there. Otherwise, well she wasn't old enough to get a job and had no guardian willing to enroll her in school, if she could even declare any place to live for a while. It's the kind of thing she worries about when she's alone, the same question over and over" what am I going to do??
Kelly blinked, forcing herself to calm the whirlwind of worries in her mind when she heard Kayla laugh a bit. she had missed the joke, so she just smiled nervously and nodded until Kayla allowed her in the kitchen. "Thanks." As she walked, she contemplated Kayla's words again. It had been so long since she ever felt 'at home' she wasn't even sure if she remembered what it was like to be without fear in an actual household. And one with decent food in it for that matter. When Kelly opened the fridge, her eyes widened to the size of saucers. Everything looked so neat and edible. It was almost hard to choose what to grab, but she didn't want to dawdle so she found a bowl in the clean side of the sink and put some grapes inside before heading back to the couch, careful to sit slightly out of arms reach from Kayla. and her beer.
So she was just chewing the first purple grape in her bowl when the word bruises came out of Kayla's mouth. She was looking at her. Kelly swallowed and she could feel her stomach curl, whether out of discomfort from the first real fruit dropped in there in a while, or the anxiety that set in very quickly with this line of sudden questions. She had known this would come. She'd been dreading a conversation like this since last night and now it was here, ambushing her with its trusty sidekick, alcohol. She shivered, opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again when Kayla took a long swig of beer and spoke again, slouched against the couch saying she wouldn't do exactly what her father does, even though she's been imitating his behavior since she had been holding that glass bottle. The kind of bottle that leaves scars if broken, strewn across carpet or dragged against pale flesh. She would know. Kelly winced. She was being paranoid. Kayla didn't mean her any harm...right? Ugh...she can't trust anyone. Her timid brown eyes stayed glued to the floor. She couldn't meet Kayla's eyes. "I-I'm sorry. I..wish I could tell. But I...can't."
It was obvious she meant to try, given how much she owes Kayla for housing her in the first place, but the words wouldn't come out. Partly because it was all to frightful to revisit the memories and partly because of the smell of beer turning her breaths shallow and eyes misty. "I..can't" she whimpered.
