we'll be a fine line

2- so much capacity for love

Chapter two:

poppy's pov

present

'the world is small and i am young and i have so much capacity for love, i want to feel the rain on my face amidst the summer heat, i want to feel snow in my hair during the depth of the winter, i want to be kissed on the beach at sunset, i want to dance with the blossom in the spring, and i want to live with few regrets, while taking all opportunities offered, i want to help others, i want to be unapologetically happy, i want to love with my friends, and i want to live a life with my lover, because gosh, i have a heart bursting with a need to love and to be loved and a soul waiting for growth and healing and good god i have so much capacity for love'

After re-reading what I'd written two days before the crash, I put down my journal, took a deep breath, wiped my tears, took my medication, and meandered downstairs to cook dinner for my brothers.

I still couldn't remember anything, and although it was a small amount of time I forgot. I was still slightly haunted by the idea that I was missing part of my life, especially because I write in that journal every morning when I wake up, and one was missing from the 'crash-day' which is what I've started calling it. This is the third day after the crash, and I still can't remember anything that happened the three days leading up to it, my head still pounds every now and then, but my brothers won't look me in the eye anymore and I'm not too sure why, we are normally very close with each other, and they all helped raised me. It's like they are ashamed of seeing me, and so I am quite confused, but in too much pain to question it at the moment. My head and hips hurt which is slightly strange, as I only remember the doctors telling me about my head injury. Apparently, my head hit the dash and I blacked out straight away. So even though I was confused, I left it be. My brothers soon returned home from either their work or uni, there were 3 of them, older than me, and I loved them with all my heart.

"Pippa and Phoebe haven't come round the last couple days, do you know why?" I asked them, I would've thought that they'd want to know how I was doing, but there was radio silence, not a peep. Which was completely odd, based on the fact they'd normally come around daily. And I realized, as I was contemplating any reason for their reticence , no one had answered my question.

"Hello? Is everyone ignoring me since the crash? Did I forget anything about our relationships? I thought you guys were my backup, I thought we were good?" and no one answered still. Despite no one saying anything, I could tell they knew something. I peered over at Ryan who was my eldest brother, a med student at Uni in his second year, and looked him dead in the eye, making him say something. He only came home a week ago, because of the crash, I presume.

"Pops... look, we aren't ignoring you we're just..." he looked over to second eldest brother Ethan for reassurance and my heart plummeted. "We were just all, worried about you, you see. It's been a mere week since the crash and you haven't gained your memory back and- hey!" Ethan elbows Ryan, effectively silencing him, then shoots him a deadly look.

"Shut up Ryan, we were only worried because you're moving around an awful lots for someone who got out of hospital 3 days ago."

"Right. Okay. Well then. Enjoy the rest of your meals," I say, suddenly far from hungry because of the cold-shoulder I was getting from my brothers. "I'm suddenly not hungry anymore. I guess I wasn't aware I had liars for brothers." I scraped the chair back causing all three of them to wince. And I loudly dumped my plate and cutlery into the sink. "I cooked and cleaned, one of you will have to wash up tonight." I turned and headed into my room once more to be alone with my thoughts, which wasn't ideal, as they weren't bringing me much peace either. They had lost three days of my life, that I wasn't sure I was going to get back. And it was plaguing my mind. What if something had happened in the three days I forgot? Something bad enough that my brothers were all ignoring me? Bad enough that Pippa and Phoebe were ignoring me? Without allowing myself a moment more to dwell on every scenario in my head, I decided to shower.

Stepping into the middle floor bathroom, which I shared with only one of my siblings, the youngest, Toby, who was a mere 4 years old, so it wasn't that much of a hassle if he walked in, and even less of a hassle because of the blessing that he wasn't a smelly, hormonal teen yet, just cute. Although he did seem to have an obsession with drawing slightly wonky boats all over the bath tub with a crayon that was meant to wash off but very clearly doesn't.

After peeling off my large hoodie that I borrowed (stole) from my dad, I noticed a bruise, right on my collar bone, that I don't remember getting from the crash. And another, on my left wrist, which almost looked like fingerprints, and another on my waist, and two more each of my hips, almost handprints, and I try to come to a rational reason why they might be there. But standing there, in just my underwear, I wondered how on earth someone could get bruises like that.

Unfortunately for me, my body doesn't even hover at any of the other possibilities of everything else that could've happened, there I was again, presuming the worst.

Whether the rational side of me agreed with the dramatic side, or whether the fearful side overpowered the hopeful side, I was in a moment of weakness, the word "rape" blared like a warning sign in the front right corner of my brain, my body reacted before I did, and bile rose in my throat and I threw myself in front of the toilet. Tears stung my eyes as my throat burned from the heaving.

I think for a moment and recall something being said.

"Once we knew it was only 'er head that was damaged, we tried as quickly as we could to get 'her body out. We were rough with it, but it needed to be done." Oh god oh god. Why would I jump to conclusions like that? Stupid Stupid. It was me getting pulled out of the car. Idiot. Relief flooded through me; a tidal wave of relief seeping through my bones. And I continue getting ready for the shower, praying it'll wash away any pain left over from the last 2 weeks. Pain I remember, and pain I don't.

After the most blissful twenty minutes of my life, my muscles are soothed, my hair is washed and conditioned, and my armpits are shaved. I go back downstairs to find that none of my brothers had actually done the dishes, and with a shake of my head I wash them up, remembering to chide them in the morning. I enjoy washing up, it's rather therapeutic. If I'm completely honest I prefer it to cooking, I like having my hands submerged into warm water and having to not think about anything else in the world except for the one task at hand. Sometimes I take my time and I slowly spend time with each piece of cutlery, and each plate, shining it to perfection, and drying it afterwards. But this time, unfortunately I cannot do that this time as Seb, my youngest older brother walks down the stairs and sighs as he sees me and quickly looks the other way with a devastated look in his eyes. Which I honestly thought was a tad dramatic and unnecessary but I still love him despite his dramatic flares.

"I was just going to do that you know. Just going to do it. I even told the other guys to go upstairs and that as soon as I'd got off the phone to dad I was gonna do it. But you're there. Again, like usual, doing something even though you know it's not your job to do. You're always overworking yourself. Fuck why didn't you just let someone else do it?"

"What was that little performance for?" I gasp, while trying to compose myself. "You've never been one for dramatics Seb, why the long face? You've never been that upset about it before? I hit my head. Not my hands, I'm happy washing up. My legs ache a bit, but I enjoy it, honestly." I smile at him before draining the sink and drying my hands.

"Just worried about you, I guess."

"There's no need. I'm recovering perfectly fine despite 3 days of memories missing" I laugh but soon notice Seb doesn't have the same look in his face as mine. And that he isn't actually finding this funny. "Oh. okay, I'll let you do it next time" and I retreat back upstairs, still slightly hurt that all my brothers are acting harsh or cruel towards me this evening.

Didn't know washing up was that personal. My bad.  

*a/n: luke's pov next. and thats when u find out hat happened poppy :)*