Toni's vision tunnels as her panic attack sets in. She barely sees Shelby back out of the room to run off. Toni grips the side of the bed, trying to ground herself, trying to catch her breath. All her injuries mount on top of each other, the headache, the labored breathing, the bruises, the broken wrist.
But the threats in her head are all she can think about. Those direct messages, those taunting comments from her foster father. She closes her eyes, but still sees his figure. His fist. His foot.
She physically feels arms wrap around her, Toni stiffens, arms coming up to fend the person off. But then she realizes how she's being held. Her head rests in the bend of an elbow, an arm wrapping around her head, fingers laced in her hair, making circular patterns.
A name escapes Toni's mouth in a single breath, "Marty."
Martha pulls Toni into her chest, and Toni finally opens her eyes. She sees the green jacket, the bedazzled beads reflecting the night light from the moon. Toni holds onto her, with fistfuls of fabric in her hands. Toni lets go and cries into her. She's hunching into Martha, still trying to favor the bruises on the side of her body. The marks left on her body by her bad decisions.
"Shh. Shh. You got to stop fighting."
Martha threads her fingers through Toni's hair, occasionally scratching her scalp a few times. Toni focuses on those sounds, loud in her ears. It helps quiet the thoughts in her head. But all this exertion of air causes the coughs in her chest sound like whistling. Martha squeezes Toni closer, swaying softly.
"Listen to me, you have to stop, okay?"
Toni's airways are barely open, even with the extra gasping and crying. She shakes her head against Martha, almost frustrated with herself. That she let it get to her. That she needs help in the first place. That things haunt her. That she's recovering. That she pushes people away.
As if Martha could read her thoughts, Martha reassures, "Shh. Stop fighting. You'll see. Everything gets easier." She places both hands on Toni's cheeks, making Toni look her in the eyes. Martha just nods at the girl, pursing her lips, and sucking in a deep breath and exhaling.
"Just let go, and let us help you, okay?"
Toni nods her head at her and softly whimpers, like letting go is such a lift. Toni has never shared the weight of her pain. Not with the girl sitting in front of her, and quite reluctantly with Shelby. Never really letting either of them all the way in. Toni blinks at Martha, like she's checking in to see if Martha has second thoughts, like she will reconsider once she realizes the mistake she's made.
But Martha's eyes are locked on Toni's face, reading and studying all her features, all her tells. "Breathe. Relax. Breathe." Martha motions at her to take a breath in, she holds her hand out to stop her, she waits two seconds and releases, "Exhale. Breathe."
The machines have finally reverted back to the normal numbers and beeping sounds, no more green spikes on the heart rate monitor. Toni recovers from herself, and hangs onto Martha's arm tighter. Martha smooths Toni's face with her free hand, the pads of her fingers graze her cheekbones, her jawline, they lift as they meet bruises, but return to slide down the bridge of her nose. Martha boops the point of Toni's nose.
"Let us help you, okay?" Martha says with a smile. It's a grateful one, like she's delighted to have been in this position. Like she's been waiting for Toni to open up, to fully trust her.
And Toni grabs Martha's hand. She squeezes twice. No more secrets. No more hiding.
For the first time, Martha sees Toni. All of her. And she doesn't run away. She doesn't leave. Martha stays. And looks at her with eyes full of love, with understanding. Toni showed her the worst side of her, the broken and bruised, and she stayed.
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Is this the final stop? (Toni Shalifoe)
ChickLitAfter an incident with Toni Shalifoe's most recent foster family, she gets placed into a new foster home: The Goodkind Family. Now, Toni has to live in a new town with a new family, who to Toni's assumption, only took her in as a charity case. Will...