Total pages in book: 260
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
Chapter 3
Something to Remember
I want to get closer to her, but I stay right where I am.
I can see she’s breathing, and that’s what matters right now.
Listen to me and she stays safe. My father’s words echo in my head repeatedly as I wait for her to awaken. I was desperate to get in here. I needed to see her to protect her, but with every second that passes… I start to hate her.
I was so ready to give in. So ready to end all this shit. And now, because of her, my fate is worse than it’s ever been.
Yet, so much better.
My fingers itch to push her hair away from her face. She’s young; younger than me, I’m sure. She’s pretty in a traditional sense. Her hair is ruffled though, and she needs to be taken care of.
There’s a scratch on her cheek, like a scrape more than a scratch I guess.
My back leans against the cinder block wall, and it’s cold and hard, but it’s giving me stability. The thing I hate most about this situation, is that I’m still helpless.
There used to be ointment in the medicine cabinet. The mirror has a patina from where you have to grip the edge to open it. But in the old mirror cabinet, there was an ointment for scratches. I don’t know if there is now.
A weak humorless smile makes the corner of my lip twitch as I pick at the frayed end of my jeans. I can’t even get her something for the scrape.
Pathetic.
That hasn’t changed in the least.
She doesn’t know though. She doesn’t know anything beyond these walls. I lean my head back, tearing my eyes away from her for the first time since I’ve been let back in.
She doesn’t know. And she needs someone to protect her, even if it is only just enough to prevent a worse fate. Surely, it’ll be enough?
For her. My teeth grind together and my knuckles turn white as I ball them into fists.
It better be enough. It has to be. It’s all I have to offer, and now she’s changed everything.
Chapter 4
Something to Remember
Robin
My head hurts so badly. Why does it hurt so much? I try to push myself upright, and the ground is so cold and hard. It’s so uncomfortable, but my head is too heavy and I slump against the ground.
Where am I?
I try to remember where I was. The sound of the carousel shrieking as it slowly turned from the wind blowing filters through my memory. The empty swings sway back and forth. The school playground is deserted. I thought everyone would be here today. But it’s empty. The first day of summer and not a soul is here.
I remember how I looked up and the sun was far off in the distance, but still in the sky. Didn’t they know we still had time to play? I’m younger than most of the kids, only twelve, but even the older ones usually play with me.
I sat on the swings for a while, I remember that. As the pounding in my head throbs harder I remember how the metal chains twisted and I let myself twirl on the swings over and over. I could wait for the other kids. I was sure they’d show up.
Did they?
I squint, trying to remember and I turn my head. My palms brush against the concrete floor, my cheek flat against the hard floor.
There was a man. He had a golf club and he needed my help. I remember how lost he looked. He said he hit his last ball into the trees and he couldn’t reach into the bushes.
My heartbeat quickens as I remember, and my body goes still.
I knew to tell him a lie. I knew to turn around and run when he tried to take my hand in his. But he looked so hurt when I tried to pull away. He was genuinely upset, and all he did was ask me to help him.
The thin branches cracked under my sneakers as I went into the woods, following him to where he thought the ball had landed.
I open my eyes and I can’t breathe.
He lied to me. My nails scratch on the ground as I clench them into fists and slowly look up.
No! Mommy, help me! Tears blur my vision of the cinder block walls.
No! This can’t be happening. I pull my knees into my chest and try to stand.
Why does my head hurt so much?
“Are you okay?” a soft voice asks from behind me, making me shuffle across the ground and push myself against the cold wall. It takes a moment for me to wipe my eyes and see him.
He’s just a boy.
His knees are knobby and he’s thin, but his shoulders are broad and he has a look about him that lets me know he’s older than me. There’s another look about him, too.