Chasing The Moon

Chapter 23

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I didn't realize what was going on when I woke up. I clenched my fists, remembering the cut across my hand and wincing. The feeling of a shirt shocked me, along with the realization of the bandages across my head. I assume he must have put them on while I was out. My body still ached, making me shift in my position. My wrists were still tied up along the bedpost by a rough rope that I'm sure were leaving scratches across my skin.

I looked around the room, it being much darker than before I went unconscious. How long was I out for? Two hours maybe? I tried seeing if my dad was anywhere in there, but I couldn't tell from where I was.

Of course, my suspicions were answered whenever I felt movements on the bed behind me. I watched as a leg stepped out next to me, and then another, and then my dad was in front of me. He crouched down, plopping down criss-cross with a hand on his knee. I drew myself inward, striving for as little space between us as possible. He didn't look as disheveled as before, but I didn't wanna take that risk.

He sighed, throwing his head forward and then up, staring at me.

"Listen, sorry about your head. I didn't mean for you to get slammed down that hard. Sometimes I don't realize my own strength," he motioned his head forward and scratched the side of it, looking obviously guilty, "I tried patching it up for you, but if you need to fix it you can."

His words weren't slurred around, meaning he wasn't drunk anymore. I took some relaxation in this, but it still didn't make up for what had just happened hours ago. I decided not to say anything, which made him clearly uncomfortable. He sighed again and shifted around, staring up at the ropes around my wrists. He leaned forward and moved his hands up to my arms. I flinched and pulled away, surprising him.

"Ah sorry, I was just going to remove these ropes, they look like they hurt," he said, and I squinted my eyes at him, letting him take them off. He untied the ropes and unwrapped them from the post. I quickly moved them down and looked at my hand and wrists, rubbing them. They were burned red with small scratches all across them.

"Sorry, I'll go get you some bandages."

As soon as he was out of the room, I looked around for anywhere I could escape. I could hide in the closet, making him think I left and leave the room, giving me time to really escape, but that was too risky. I also could go out the window, but the drop was too far, and I didn't have time to tie the rope on the bed to get down before he came back. I decided to just sit here, waiting patiently until my chances were better.

He opened the door holding some bandage wrap, and walked back over to me before sitting down. He unwrapped some and held it in front of me, waiting for me to bring my wrists forward. As he was wrapping them up, I did a double take with how gentle he was being with me, thinking back on the recent events.

I didn't really look my best, as I was covered in blood soaked bandages. The sun had already set, and the stars were shining outside the window, moonlight just barely filling the room. The setting made me feel uneasy, although I couldn't figure out why. Once my dad was done wrapping me up, he tossed the roll to the side, running his hands through his hair. I noticed he had taken down his bun, making his hair appear even longer, falling down past his shoulders. I made myself a mental note to cut my hair whenever I got the chance. I would never let myself look any more like him than I already do.

"So um...are you hungry? You look like you haven't eaten in forever," he asked, scratching his neck. His attempts at being nice to me made me sick, but I couldn't tell if it was genuine or not. I shook my head, tucking it in between my knees and wrapping my arms around my legs. I just wanted this day to be over, I wanted to sleep. Maybe I'll die in my slumber from a concussion. That didn't sound too bad.

He gave, yet another, sigh and stood up, setting his hands on his hips. "Well, if you want to sleep, feel free to, just don't leave this room."

I looked away as he left for the door. "So you're just going to keep me here?"

"No, just until your wounds heal. Get some rest, alright?"

I rolled my eyes at his comment. What was he thinking trying to be a dad? I wouldn't even be in this situation if it weren't for him. He opened the door and left, and I waited there on the floor until his footsteps that were going down the stairs were quite enough to where I couldn't hear them, and sprung up to my feet. I think I had done that too fast, because the floor spun underneath me, and I grabbed the bed before I fell. I winced, the pains in my head, wrists, and hand adding to my addlepated demeanor. It took a second for me to regain a stable state, but when I did I looked around the room for the rope.

Once I spotted it by the bed, I quickly grabbed it, tying a knot with it on the stake and moving over towards the window. I wasn't entirely sure if it was going to be long enough to reach the ground, but I could always jump. I'm positive that wouldn't be good for my current physical condition, but it was better than staying here. I could run away to Kei's house and achieve even a few hours of happiness.

After quietly opening the window, trying my best to make sure it wasn't loud enough for my dad to hear, I tossed the rope out of it. As I had suspected, it wasn't long enough, just barely reaching the middle of the house. Tinges of frustration washed over me, but I wasn't going to give up just yet. I yanked on it, making sure it was tight enough, and threw my legs over the edge of the window, the rope in hand.

Now, I wasn't the strongest person, but I prayed just my willpower alone would grant me just a few minutes of strenght to make it down. As I peered down at the ground below me, my heart raced. I didn't want to chicken out of this, but it'd be an understatment to say I was scared right now.

Cold wind rushed into the room, making me shiver. I was suddenly regretting my decision. It can't be that terrible here right? I'm sure there was other ways I could find a way out.

This was...too risky. And of course, I was too scared to do anything. I always was.

I sighed and moved back into the room, holding my arms close to me. I moved back over the to the bed and untied the rope, throwing it across the room in anger. There was so much racing through my brain right now I could barely think properly. I closed the window and plopped on the bed, hot tears building up in the back of my eyes. I leaned my head back, forcing them to not fall out. I wanted to stop crying. I wanted to stop being scared. I wanted to be treated like a human being. I wanted to stop hating myself. I wanted everything to just stop.

As the salty tears made their way across my cheeks, I laid back on the bed, running my hands through my messy hair. I tried wiping them away, but more just followed, soaking up the blanket below me. I turned to the side, staring at the bandages that led from the palm of my hand to halfway down my arms. They were just barely stained red, but it made me sick to my stomach. I let more small sobs escape before bringing my arm to my chest, closing my eyes.

I lifted my legs up, tucking them into fetal postion. I know I probably looked like a baby right now, but it was comforting. I felt safe, and I needed to feel safe right now.

My head ached, along with, I suppose the entire rest of my body.

I don't know why, but I found this funny, bursting out in laughter and wiping away the tears that had made their way across the bridge of my nose. Maybe I really am going crazy.

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