"Twelve? Not a good age. Wait until she's thirteen. Hormones are not a good thing. I was horrific." 

Lola as a teenager had been somewhat of a tearaway. She had perfected climbing out of her bedroom window by the tender age of eleven, and by fourteen she was a sassy little mare. Luckily, the phase didn't last overtly long. However, she did still have quite an explosive temper, and a tendency to throw things when in a rage. As she reflected on her teenage years, she momentarily phased out, only to be brought back to reality with bump when Caleb asked about Jack.

The blonde wasn't entirely sure she wanted to talk about it, especially with someone that she barely knew. Biting her bottom lip, she shrugged. Part of her didn't even know how to explain it.  

"He did pretty much everything you can do to someone. Mentally, physically...sexually." 

The young woman's voice was almost a whisper, and she wouldn't make eye contact with Caleb. Lola had suffered many broken bones, but the worst thing was the psychological abuse. The mind games. It makes you weak enough to blame yourself, and in a way, she still felt that maybe it was. There was a deep seated guilt, that she just couldn't shake. Self inflicted shame. Being happy and bubbly was far more easy then facing demons.

"He'll kill me one day."

The words were simply delivered. No drama, no tears. It was something that Lola had thought, and did still think was inevitable. Just his presence was enough to make her want to disappear.

"It's just a matter of time."