Chapter-8: Care

Sya's POV:

I quietly opened the door to prevent it from making any noise. You know, in case I got lucky and John didn't realize I wasn't in the house all this time and went straight to his room. I silently closed the door behind me and looked around. The house was bathed in darkness and that gave my heart a strong negative vibe. Why is it so dark and unusually quiet?

I took another hesitant step forward and was now in the living room. Suddenly, as if on cue, all the lights flickered on. And there was John, sitting on the couch with an evil smirk plastered on his hideous face. I felt fear grip me. Grip me so tightly and in place. I hated it. Hated standing in front of him like I was the criminal. Like I was punishable for merely existing.

"Looks like someone is late!" He sang in a low voice, the evil smirk still pasted to his face. He slowly pushed himself out of the couch and stood up, walking towards me. Fear flashed through my body and my hands began to tremble as I took fearful steps backward.

"I'm s-sorry. I-I was s-stuck somewhere. This will never ha-happen again. I-I'm sorry!" I stuttered pathetically as tears began to roll down my face. The way he was walking towards me, the glee on his face as he planned to nearly skin me alive was enough to make my insides ache in fear. And I hated all of it. Every minute of it.

He was standing just mere inches away from me when he grabbed me from the hair and yanked my head backward, forcing me to look up at him. A scream of pain escaped my mouth as he slapped me hard.

"You think I let you stay here too so you could stay out late and have fun with your friends?!” He yelled, his eyes ablaze. “When I-‘m home, what right do you have to be out this late and not home cooking dinner for me and Mom?!” He still had my hair in a tight grip and my head pushed back against the wall. It was getting harder for me to look into his eyes. I vigorously shook my head in denial, still crying.

"N-no! I wasn't hanging out. I-I told aunt Helena where I was going!"

This only infuriated him further. He shoved me to the ground hard where a broken bottle of beer was shattered all over. Large pieces of glass pierced my forearms and elbows and I felt warm liquid begin to flow down my arm. I was still on the floor, reeling because of the pain when John kicked me in the stomach knocking out all the air from my lungs. Then, the second blow came and then the third and my vision became so hazy, I lost count after that. I felt something break inside of me. Probably some of my ribs or was it my heart, my hope, or the tiny desire to have a normal life that had awoken inside me earlier? I could clearly see my worth now. On the floor, inside the pool of my own blood. My mouth had that strong metallic taste now. He probably kicked out the blood from my insides. I suddenly found myself wishing he'd just kill me.

Right there. Right then.

The pain soon exceeded the limit of my tolerance and dark spots covered my vision before it became completely dark.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When I opened my eyes, sometime later, I was disappointed to see that I was still inside that horrible house, in that horrendous living room, on the floor.

My stomach was in so much pain that I didn't even have the strength to sit up. I groaned. My entire body was cursing at me for this. I bit my bottom lip hard to stop myself from screaming out loud. I tried to wiggle myself to a sitting position but even the simple act of breathing was so, so painful.

There was a pool of blood around me and I realized it was mine. It had gushed out from the wound on my arm and dried to a certain extent. I pulled out the piece of glass from my upper arm with a shaking hand, wincing from the immense pain. I wonder if I cracked any bones this time.

I slowly stood up with the remaining strength left inside of me and barely dragged myself to my room. As soon as I entered, I collapsed on the floor again. My eyes fell on the clock on the nightstand. 3 am.

Thank God I wasn't out till morning or he would have gotten more mad. That sick bastard.

I kept lying on the floor for another twenty minutes or so, catching my breath and calming myself down. After that, I forced myself to walk to the washroom all the while bearing with the pain. Once I was inside, I stripped my clothes. There were several small cuts on both of my forearms and several ugly purple bluish bruises on my stomach. I touched my ribcage, wincing, trying to check if I really had broken anything. They seemed to be alright but the cuts on my forearm were deep and needed stitches.

I pulled the first aid box out of the cabinet and cleaned my cuts before stitching them up. You're probably thinking that stitching your own injuries isn't possible for a girl. But in my case, it wasn't the first time. John never allowed me to go to the doctor. In case someone found out what happened to me in this house. Abuse isn’t something you are ever allowed to mention, whether physical or mental.

Stitching and cleaning my wounds, I wrapped them with a gauze after applying medicine and then examined my work. The stitches were slightly sloppy but perfectly done and the wounds on my stomach were covered with the pain removal tube. Funny how these people were thoughtful enough to first beat me to a pulp and then also provide me with a first aid box to treat myself.

Now all I have to do is sleep and probably wake up a little late. It will be okay if I go to college late. There isn't much I would miss and Hannah would cover for me.

With that thought, I swallowed some painkillers and laid down on my bed to give my poor body some time to heal. The room was still eerily dark as I realized I never switched on the light when I stumbled in.

*~*~*~*~*~*

I reached college late as expected. It was 10:15 am, probably break time as I made my way to the table where Hannah, her boyfriend Bryson, and Kane were sitting. As I reached them, they all gave me weird looks. I couldn’t blame them for that though. My current appearance was really weird.

I mean, what idiot wears a baggy shirt with full sleeves on a sunny day. It's probably 40 degrees or something outside.

"Hey guys," I waved shyly to lighten the mood a bit, taking a seat beside Hannah. Hannah gave me the 'what happened?’ look, at which I pressed my lips together in a thin line. She gave me an understanding nod.

After a while, she mouthed 'Come with me' and stood up, drawing the attention of the two boys who were sitting with us. Kane was staring at me throughout, which unnerved me for some reason.

"I’ll be right back. Excuse me!" With that, she walked out of the cafeteria with me at her heels. The boys gave us curious looks and Kane somehow looked worried.

Does he suspect something? I immediately shook the thought away and went out. After exiting the cafeteria, Hannah immediately dragged me to the nearest empty class and gave me a hard look.

"What?" I asked innocently, acting as if everything was normal.

However, her hard glare didn't change even a bit. She started tapping her right foot against the floor, getting impatient for an explanation about my weird outfit. I sighed, defeated, and began to tell her.

"John beat me again," I murmured quietly, looking at the floor, feeling embarrassed about my cowardly behavior. But she won't understand that they could kill me!

I waited for her to start scolding me about how I never give it back to those people and let them bully me but it never happened. Instead, I heard a sob escaping her lips.

I looked wide-eyed at her now crying face and didn't realize that I also had started crying.

"Oh gosh Sya, I'm so sorry! I should have known better. How are you feeling? Is it hurting?" She peppered me in questions in between sobs and immediately hugged me. I winced as she accidentally squeezed my injured arm. On realizing that she had hurt me, she instantly pulled away and looked at me with so much concern and care.

"I-I'm sorry!" She apologized again. I could only shake my head at her constant apologies.

"It's okay. You know how it all is. Should we go back now? The boys might get suspicious otherwise." I said, wiping away my own tears.

She nodded but then pointed a finger towards me.

"But I’m going to check and treat your wound after college and you are not going to the cafe today! Call them and tell them that you are taking a day off. Okay?" she chided in a caring yet commanding tone. I chuckled at her motherly attitude but nodded nevertheless.

"Okay, mom! Anything else?" I joked, at which she cracked a weak smile and hugged me again but careful of my wound this time.

As I exited the empty classroom with Hannah, I bumped into someone's chest. Hannah also stopped by my side. There was a shocked expression on her face and she was staring at the person whom I had bumped into.

I followed her gaze and felt as if the time had stopped.

Kane was standing tall with a furious scowl on his face. His hands were closed in tight fists and he was staring at me intently.

Why is he like this? Did he hear something? What would he do if he really had heard something? What will I tell him if he asks me what I was talking about?

I realized that Hannah had been gone from my side and left me alone with Kane.

That traitor! She skipped out of here the moment she found out a guy is alone with me.

I focused back on Kane and realized that he was standing closer than a comfortable distance. So close that I could feel his breath fanning my face. I was getting more and more nervous because of our closeness.

"Where are you hurt?" His husky voice sent chills down my spine but in a good way.

"Uh-Huh? Hurt? Uh- no- where!" I stuttered nervously, wondering what to tell him.

"I heard you talking with Hannah. Who is John?" He sounded possessive, still standing too close to me. It caused a weird feeling to stir inside my stomach. I immediately dropped my gaze to the floor, fearing that I would start crying if I looked in his warm, intense eyes anymore. It was so overwhelming, standing this close to him. I felt warm, like home. And I didn't have a home so I wasn't supposed to be feeling this way.

He lifted my face with his index finger under my chin, until my gaze met with his again. I took a deep breath allowing myself to mold into his deep gray-blue eyes.

Forgetting every pain and hardship of my life. My trance was soon broken when I took in his worried expression and his glassy eyes.

What is this expression? Is he worried for me? Are his eyes teary because of me? I shook the last thought immediately. Why would he cry for me? He's probably not even that concerned, just being polite.

"Are you going to tell me or not?" he asked again, in a demanding yet gentle tone. I shook my head.

"I can't." I cried out, holding back my tears. I couldn’t get anyone else involved or they would suffer with me. I couldn’t get him involved. Only thinking about it made me shiver in fear. His eyes twitched as he watched my small yet poorly controlled mental breakdown and tucked the few strands of hair tenderly behind my ear that had fallen over my face and gently caressed my cheek with his thumb.

"Don't worry. I'm here now. You can tell me some other time, okay? For now, will you come with me so I can check on your wounds?" He said gently, looking straight into my eyes. It touched the core of my heart and a strange kind of warmth spread through my heart to my mind, calming my trembling nerves.

I nodded as he began leading the way. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder in a caring and possessive manner. It really surprised me how much he cared, despite the fact that we hadn’t known each other for that long.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked abruptly, not being able to hold back as he began to walk. He stopped for a second, looked into my eyes, and then smiled. A heart-melting beautiful smile before saying the most heartwarming words.

"Because I care for you." My heart swelled at his words and the same strange feeling rushed through me.

It is the first time after my parents’ death that someone said they cared about me.

I sighed sadly at his confession and continued to walk again with him. I didn't even know what to say at this. I was scared he'd stop caring once he found out how much emotionally damaged I was.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*