A Modern Love Story

Chapter 23 - Memories

Criticism spot! :)

Crutchie's POV

"Get up!" My Dad screamed, pulling me from the floor. "Just fucking walk!"

"I can't, Dad-"

"Do it! Now!" He roared, pushing me forward. Of course, I collapsed to the floor, earning me multiple kicks to the stomach. "Fuck sake, you're so pathetic," he spat, towering over me. "I wish you would've died in that crash."

"Please," I begged, looking up at him.

"I bet you enjoyed watching your Mother die, huh?" I simply stared back at him, tears streaming down my face. "Answer me!"

"I didn't- I-"

"Don't fucking lie! You pathetic sack of shit," he kicked me again, smiling as he did so. "She's dead because of you! It's all your fault! All of it was your fault!"

I woke up sobbing, trying to catch my breath. While the memory itself wasn't anywhere near my worst ones, what was hitting me was the crash part, triggering a PTSD attack. It was dark out now, but Jack wasn't here, likely in the garage working on sculptures. I grabbed my phone, my hands shaking.

09:42 pm Are you home

09:42 pm Mhm! I'm finishing up a project quick

09:42 pm I really need you

Only a few seconds passed before I could hear him climbing the stairs, entering his room quickly and pulling me into a hug. I clung to him as I sobbed, wishing I could catch my breath.

"Nightmare?" Jack asked, trying to figure out exactly what was going on.

"Yeah, but I'm-" I was cut off by my own sobs, holding onto him even more.

"PTSD attack?" He added, and all I did was nod. "You're okay, I've got you," he rubbed my back, his voice soothing. 

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, my chest tight.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for, I promise," he reassured me, likely wanting to back up so he could see my face as he spoke, but knowing I'd freak out if he let go.

"It's replaying over and over, I can't breathe," I started rambling, shaking even more.

"Breathe with me," was all he said, as I needed time to calm myself before we spoke any further. 

We sat together for a while, Jack waiting patiently as I gathered myself. Once I was okay enough, he backed away, pushing my hair from my eyes and smiling sweetly. He dried my face, causing me to smile the tiniest bit.

"Don't apologize," he began, knowing it was only mere seconds before I did. We both chuckled a little, easing the tension. "Can you talk me through what you're feeling a little? If you aren't ready to, that's okay, don't push yourself."

"Do you mean... About the dream, or..?" I asked, confused.

"You seem to really struggling to let me help right now, which is okay of course, but I'm only worried about it because you asked me to come up here, if that makes any sense." He explained, and I nodded.

"Oh, yeah, uhm..." I thought, not having realized before the two conflicting feelings. "I guess it's... I know you want to help me, and when I'm scared like this I want you here, but I'm also scared I'm disappointing you." I surprised myself with how honest I was, also feeling ashamed of it. Thankfully, Jack smiled at me, calming my nerves.

"Crutchie, you could never disappoint me," he spoke softly, taking my hand in his. "You mean everything to me, and some nightmares or memories don't change that." I looked down again as I teared up, feeling ill.