weight limit // L.H fanfiction

Chapter one

-Erin's POV-

My eyes burned as the sun shines through the window, practically blinding me. I pick myself off of the frozen floor. This mornings events hit me hard almost knocking me back onto the floor where I will most likely repeat what I did less than 4 hits ago.

Just as I was debating on if I should crawl back into the floor or not a ring runs through the house making me jump out of my skin. I swear I could feel my heartbeat in my throat.

I arrived I front of the door about 10 minutes later. Not really wanting the presence of anyone right now I opened the door anyway. My hand wrapped around the door knob and pain shot up my arm. Bringing my hand to my face I saw that I cuts along my knuckles, dry blood trailing down my wrist, and even a gash going across one of my fingers. I finally opened the door trying push aside the pain that throbbed through my body every 2 seconds.

The officer from this morning stood there staring blankly at me. I can only imagine what I look like. Wild hair, bloodshot eyes, bloody hand.

"Um-uh. Good morning." He spoke softly. I bet he really hates his job now. I read his badge which says Johnson. At least now I know something about him.

I nod weakly at him as I open the door wider for so he can enter. He hesitates before stepping inside closing the door behind him.

Unsure of what to say he decides to stick with the oldest one in the book. "Nice place." Of purse he didn't mean it, basically it was to lighten up the mood but it wouldn't work with the state I'm in.

I turned to walk into the living room only for him to forcefully grab my wrist making the pain shooting through my body more intense. I turned to him as he brings my hand to his face examining the injuries I've made to it.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing." I growled, snatching my wrist from his grip.

I can tell by the way he raised his eyebrows that he was surprised that I stood up to him growled at him. I don't know him, he doesn't know me, why should be he concerned. He sighs before gently taking my uninjured hand leading me upstairs. He looks closely as we pass the pool of blood staining the floor, shaking his head in disapproval.

Of course, he doesn't know where he's going so every door we pass he opens, I could have told him but I really didn't feel like talking.

When we finally reached the bathroom he searched through every cabinet in search for the first aid kit while I sat on the toilet seat getting a good look at my injury.

"You can call me Charlie by the way." He says suddenly still rambling through the cupboard under the sink. Honestly, I don't want to call you anything.

He finally finds the kit and gets on his knees in front of me to attend to my hand. Maybe he's not how I thought he would be, he actually seems nice and genuinely caring, or maybe Im just thinking that because I've only had 3 hours of sleep on a cold, hardwood floor.

He shakes his head and I'm wondering what he's thinking. Since he states things randomly it could be anything. "Your going to need stitches."

There was a the huge lump forming in my throat that I trouble swallowing. There is one thing I hate, needles.

I hiss as he pours cold alcohol over the cuts and gently clean off the blood with a cotton ball. It starts to burn and I can't help but squirm in pain.

"Be still." He tells me sternly still trying to wipe off the blood and hold me still at the same time.

"It hurts." I complain a bit annoyed at him. It's not like he's the one going through this.

After he cleans it I can tell where he says I'll need stitches, going down my first finger and over the top of my knuckle are deep gashes that will need to be stitched up. Oh no.

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"See. That wasn't so bad." Charlie states as we get into his cop car. I just gotten twelve stitches that hurt like hell. I didn't cry but I was really close to passing out. It took three times longer than it should have since I wouldn't give them my hand and hold still.

"Speak for yourself." I spit at him for teasing me.

"I can." This got my attention. I looked at him with a raised eyebrow signaling for him to continue. He chuckled at my expression before raising up his sleeve reveling a scar that ran about an inch across his arm. I could only imagine what that came from. "I was shot."

Well no need to imagine anymore.

I sit back in the seat playing with the bandage that was wrapped protectively around my hand, while Charlie drove in silence. Then a thought came up to my head.

"Not to be rude, but what was the reason you came to my house anyway."

"Oh yes!" He states as if a light bulb went off and a wash of realization flashed across his face. "We'll I think that this should wait until we're in a better environment, how about you."

"Actually, I'd like to know now."

He nods understandingly. I already knew what was to come but I still wanted to hear it.

"We'll seeing as your still a minor without a job, and with no family available you will have to go into foster-care. Now the good news is you'll only be there for a few month until you turn 18. I know you probably didn't want that but there is nothing we can do."

I understand but it still feels as if there is something else that could be done.

I continue to play with my cast while Charlie drives to a small diner. I watch as he gets out of the car, only stoping to wait for me by the front door of the restaurant. I reach my left arm over me so I can open the door of the car, it's a struggle but I finally manage to get it open. When I get out a strong gust of wind blows against my back making me shiver. It's the beginning of March, but it feels like freaking December still. I've never liked the cold weather, freezing your fingers and toes off aren't any fun either.

Charlie holds the door open for me as I enter into warm café, the smell of pancakes makes my mouth instantly water. Charles nudges me with his elbow as he walks to a booth next to the window.

"I use to come here a lot as a kid." I state mindlessly looking around.

"I did too."

I raise my eyebrows slightly as if to say 'oh really.' He nods before his face turns serious. It seemed like he was trying to find something to say but can't quite figure it out. I took this time to look over the menu deciding on what I should get to fill up my aching stomach.

"I'm sorry for the lose of your mom. No one your age should ever have to go through something like this. I wish I could help you somehow." He says softly.

My mood changes rather quickly at the speech. Suddenly I'm not as hungry anymore so i put down the menu and my head to the window as if there was something interesting on the other side.

Not only people my age but no one should have to go through this. To lose someone that meant more than the world to you.

Looking out of the window I can't help but think about what the future will hold. Hopefully, some things will go my way. On the other hand, I don't expect it to.

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Well that was chapter one, hopefully you guys enjoyed it and can't wait for the next chapter. I'll update as soon as possible. Love you!!!

-Dominique