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(still Rachael's POV)
"Hold on a second," she demanded, getting up and heading toward the door. "What are you doing? Where are you going?" I asked, feeling the panic overwhelm me with each step she took. "Relax," she said calmly as she closed the door the rest of the way and locked it. "I just want you to show me the other marks he's left on you. I figured you would want some privacy for that." For some reason, I wanted to let her see them. To show her the scars of my brutal past. I wanted to share what I'd been enduring for the past eight years. But, at the same time, I was afraid. Afraid that, after she'd seen them, she would do exactly what she'd promised she wouldn't, and tell someone. Tell them just how messed up I really was. I sighed. "Don't try to pull the pity act on me, okay?" I pleaded. She gave me a strange look as she asked, "what do you mean?" I sighed again. "I mean, don't act like I'm some pitiful, defenseless creature. Keep in mind that I've lived with this for almost nine years. I don't expect anyone to feel sorry for me. Nor do I want them to. That's the main reason I never told anyone. Not even my ex-boyfriend, Trevor. Sure, he'd ask. But I would always pass it off as I'd fallen, or hurt myself exercising or something. I don't like having people worry about me." "Oh," she nodded. "Okay enough stalling. Show me. Everything." I gave her an incredulous look. "You want me to strip down?!" "Keep your underwear on, but take everything else off. I look just like you, so it's not like you have anything I don't." "Uh..." was all I could manage. I felt embarrassed already. She jsut stared at me, so I obeyed and began to take off my shirt. But as I did, I began having some trouble with that. Apparently, the blow to the ribs I had taken a couple of nights ago was still not completely healed yet. "Er...um...R-renae?" I stammered, embarrassed with myself. I knew I had to look weak to her. Or pathetic. "Yeah?" "Um...c-could you help me with this?" I asked sheepishly. I expected her to groan and call me something like "weak baby" or something. But, instead, she said nothing as she got off the bed she had sat down on and walked over to help me taek it off. As soon as that was done, I heard her gasp and whisper under her breath "oh my god...." "I told you...no pity act," I muttered as I finished undressing. I watched her carefully as she circled me, surveying the damage my body had taken over the years. Well, what she could see of it, at least. I wasn't about to tell her about the other part of it. I knew she wouldn't react well to that. I also knew I wasn't ready to tell anyone just yet. Not that anyone would have believed me if I told them, anyway. She circled me twice more and then went back to sit on the bed. "Oh my god," she repeated. "I think I'm going to be sick..." I heard her mutter under her breath. I had a feeling she would feel even more like that if I told her about the rest of the damage. The kind that not only left me in physical pain, but the emotional disaster that it left behind along with it. I vowed to myself that that was something I was never going to tell anyone. Ever.