If Only

Chapter 15- Trauma Dumping

I pull off my socks, tiptoeing over to the desk near the bed where Alphie and Bailey are sleeping. I open the notebook that sits there and grab the closest writing utensil. A purple crayon, amazing. I scribble something down and reread it.

Hey Alphie or Bailey, whoever reads this, I needed to go get clothes from my house so I had to leave early this morning. Don't be worried that I'm not where I was last night. I'm fine. Also, I'm leaving Theodore (my cat) here for a while. If you could look after him until I get the chance to find a place for him, that would be amazing. Thank you. I will leave my phone number on the back of this paper. :) -- Fleur

I reach into my pocket only to remind myself that I don't have my phone. I know I must've left it at home, and the thought scares me. I have to go back there. I wasn't prepared to leave. Taking one final glance at the clock which reads 4:18 A.M., I tiptoe out of the room, quietly shutting the door as I leave. I know Alphie's mother is home so I am extra quiet while sneaking out. I got successfully to the road and let out a breath before continuing down the street with my bare feet and my socks shoved in my pocket. I hiss under my breath as I walk, my feet sore. I watch the stop lights flicker and change color, the street lights taking turns going off and on. I'm not sure where to go, so I wander aimlessly.

"Move it weirdo!" someone shouts from their car as they honk. I put my hands up and jog out of the way. "And get some shoes!"

I shake my head and continue walking, my mind fuzzy and blank. I have no clue where I'm going or where I am until someone calls my name and I jump.

"Fleur? Fleur! What are you doing? Are you crazy?!" I jolt at the voice and the feeling of arms enveloping my body. I freeze, tense with my eyes shut.

"Fleur, what are you doing? It's past five in the morning! How long have you been out here? Please don't tell me all night." the voice is rushed, tense with an almost pleading sensation. Below the rush, though, I can recognize the gentle tone.

"Darion." I sigh before whipping around and burying myself in his shape. His arms wrap around me and I'm lifted from the ground. I let out a slight yelp to which he responds 'sorry' before taking me up what feels like steps. I hear the whining of the door as it opens and the clicking as it shuts. I smell the familiar scent of lavender as I'm slowly put down on the couch. My knees are brought up to my chest as I wrap my arms around them. Darion quietly sits beside me.

"What happened?" he whispers. When I don't answer, he doesn't pry. He just slowly rubs my back in tiny circular motions. He looks down towards my feet and sighs before standing. I watch him, as he stalks across the room and further into the house near the non-slippery looking stairs. He comes back a few moments later.

"I'm going to patch up your feet, alright? And it looks like there's glass in here so I'll have to get that out." he speaks dully as he sits cross legged on the ground and sticks his hand out. I extend my leg and he takes my foot gently in his hand.

"Be careful." I say as he positions the tweezers from the small first aid kit.

"I will. I promise." he says, his grip tightening slightly as he moves closer. I flinch and hiss loudly as he plucks something from my foot and places it, bloodied on a piece of paper towel. It stings as he wipes it and puts a bandage onto it. He wipes off the rest of the small scrapes, removing the dirt and mud. After returning from putting the kit away, he sits down beside me. A few minutes later, I decided to talk to him. I decided I can trust him.

"They hurt me." I whisper, my voice breaking.

"What?" his voice is coated with anger and hurt. When I don't answer, he asks another question. "Who?" When I don't answer, he raises his voice.