Escape To Paradise | l.h.

{Luke}

I always hated the night. The night only meant one thing and one thing only. The neighbor would come home drunk and beat his daughter. He looked like your typical business man. Clean shaved and clean hair. A formal suit. Maybe he worked with important business men. At least, he looked like one. Maybe it was just a charade that he learned how to play well. He leaves at the crack of dawn only to return home late staggering up the sidewalk to his front porch and taking five minutes opening the front door every night. One time he even fell off his porch and laid in the front yard until he regained consciousness.
I sit at my desk in front of the window. Sleep came once in a blue moon so I stay up trying to find the guts to storm in that green shuttered house and stop him but I never do. I mindlessly write down my favorite song lyrics trying to put my troubled mind at some sort of ease until headlight shine for a split second in my window. I close my notebook glaring out of the window to see his black Mercedes parked in the driveway. My pulse quickens and I hope to god he's too drunk to do anything. Like any other night, he stumbles from his pricy car and surprisingly, gets in the house in record time. For fifteen minutes, quietness soothes me and I release a breathe I didn't know I was holding in. I close my eyes and massage my temple hoping this oncoming headache would soon be over. Just as I was about to get up, the screams start. I close my eyes once again and hide my head in my arms on my desk. Screams turn into to frantic loud sobs. Begging for him to stop come into play and I almost couldn't take it. After what seems like forever, quietness surrounds me again. Once it's quiet I always assume the worst but have learned that she's okay. For the time being.
My mother was once good friends with the Ables. Every Saturday we'd have dinner at their house or ours. Which ever was convenient at the time. Wylie had always been a quiet girl. Never talked unless spoken to which had made me curious about her. Once she was done eating she'd run up stairs or run back to her house and I wouldn't see her for the rest of the night. Not even for her to say goodnight. Every so often I'll see her at the park alone or at the public library where hardly anyone went. Nose in a book or black headphones glued in her ears. She's the reason I got a membership at the library. Even if I didn't know her that well or she didn't know me all that much I felt obligated to make sure she was alive but never found the courage in me to see if she actually was.
I learned from my mother that Mrs. Able had left almost three years ago and that know one knows where she went. Of course my mother supposes that's when Mr. Able had started drinking and wanted a divorce. Since then there has been no sign of her. Her red BMW hasn't been seen since. My mother tells me I worry too much and I'm just hearing things due to stress but I know what I hear and what I see. I'm not deaf nor am I blind. She believes that what isn't our business isn't made to be our business and that's how things have been.
I lay in my bed thinking about Wylie and how bad it must have been tonight. How wet her pillow case is. How messy her deep brown hair must lay on her pillow. How red her skin is and how many bruises she needs healed. Or how many new ones will form on her body and be visible tomorrow. After hours of thinking of different scenarios to help I finally fall into a restless guilty sleep wishing I had the balls to be her hero or at least let her know that I'm here for her.

"Honey." My mom murmurs opening the blinds, letting the bright light enter into my room. "It's almost noon, I have a few things I need to do so I might be home late." I stretch and yawn sitting up in my bed.
"Alright." I rub the sleep from my eyes. "Love you."
"Love you too." She smiles sweetly before exiting the room. Seconds later she comes back with sadness drawn on her pale face. "Luke?" She questions.
"Yes?"
"Maybe you could go next door. Maybe offer to do something with Wylie. It could mean a lot to her." She says just above a whisper. "I know you two haven't talked much since you were younger but it might be good for her."
"Good idea." I nod.
"Bye dear." She crack my door.
"Bye." I yell after her.
Without much thought, I shuffle through my music soon finding the perfect band to soothe my throbbing head from last nights events. Good Charlotte. I hum to the song I most frequently listen to as I dress sluggishly for the day. Skinny jeans cling to my long scrawny legs and an old Bring Me The Horizon shirt drapes over my shoulders. I do my hair as I normally do. Quiffing it up and spraying it down with hair spray as I finish. I hold my breathe as I exit the bathroom so I don't breathe in the hair spray. Sliding into my vans, my nerves soon approach. It wasn't like I hadn't seen her in a while. I see her all the time being neighbors and all. Sometimes I see her taking out the trash or stepping out to take a walk. It's just that I haven't had an actual conversation with her since we were little. Knowing me I'd ask her why she puts up with him and totally offend her. I have been known for being a little noisy but I do mean well. I mentally put those kinds of questions in a folder in my head and file them in a cabinet marked "DO NOT ASK." I walk out of the door and slowly make my way to her house. My palms begin to sweat and I slap my hands against the thighs. The sun beams down on me making me squint my eyes. Her lawn looked as if it hadn't been cut in weeks. Maybe even months. The gray side walk leading up to her porch had a few cracks in it. The green paint on her shutters were chipping and looked as if it hadn't been painted in over a decade. The window to the left of her porch had two long cracks going from top to bottom. I begin to wonder how the window had gotten like that but soon ignore the thought fearing what the answer could be. If nobody knew they would think this place was empty and abandoned. I take a deep breathe and knock loudly three times. After a few seconds heavy unrhythmed footsteps can be heard from within the two story house.
"Who is it?" Her voice is weak and hoarse only making me become sad and filled with worry.
"Uh, Luke. Your uh neighbor." I mentally hit myself for being so awkward.
"What do you need?" She asks her words becoming faint.
"I was just..." A dead bolt and a chain lock begin to undo cutting me off from speaking any further.
The door slowly opens to reveal a tired looking Wylie. Her long brown hair was shinning as the light hit it. Her lips were pink and slightly chapped. Her green eyes were glistening and her face looks blotchy as if she just got through crying. Her small hands hide in the sleeves of her overly sized gray sweat shirt but one thing that really stuck out was how beautiful she was. I'm talking even more beautiful then the models you see in magazines or on tv. The kind of beautiful that you seen a couple times in your life time. The slightly purplish blue bruise on her left cheek seemed like a small pimple to me and hardly stuck out. I knew it was there and after I search her appearance I look into a pair of eyes that were already glaring at me. I breathe unevenly at the thought of almost forgetting what she looked like up close.
"What do you want?" She whispers softly looking down at her overlapping feet looking more on edge then ever.
"I was wondering if..." She cuts me off.
"If I was alive." Her piercing green eyes slash into mine. They cried help but I could tell her mouth wanted to say it even more but I get the feeling she didn't want to ask for help.
"No, well, I, uh, damn it." I scratch the back of my neck feeling like a complete jerk making it seem that obvious. "That wasn't my intentions, I just, I can't talk right now."
For the first time in a while a small smile forms on her lips. Probably because of how dumb I sound. "It's okay." She blushes slightly. "Other then that why are you here?"
"I was wondering if you'd maybe wanna do something." I say softly running my right hand quickly through my hair making sure it's still intact.
"Like what?" She gestures me inside and the inside was nicer the the outside just like I had remembered. The white leather couch stool out from the dark brown walls. Framed pictures of family scatter across every wall. The tv hung tightly to the wall. The coffee table had sport illustrated magazines stacked perfectly in the right corner and they looked as if they hadn't been touched ever. A dim yellow light from a lamp in the corner produces just enough light to see where your going in the dark house.
"Whatever you'd like to do." I tell her as she closes the door behind me. She sits on the couch and I sit next to her making sure I'm not too close for comfort for her. I fold my hands together and clear my throat.
"You know, I'm kind of surprised you're here." She laughs a little. A forced one.
"Why?" I look at her confused feeling it becoming impossible to hide a smile from her.
"Because, we're not as close as we used to be when we were little." She shrugs giving me her explanation.
"I honestly don't know why. I kind of wish we still were." I gulp loudly not sure if being blunt was the right thing to do.
"You know it's because of my dad." She shakes her head and plays with her fingers looking down at them. Black finger nail polish covers her nails with only a few chips. "But I wish too. Maybe we could recover lost time." She looks up finally meeting my eyes with a genuine smile that I haven't seen for god knows how long and then I begin to wonder how her lips could form something as beautiful as that and how hopeful her eyes were.
"I couldn't have said it better." I smile. "You know if you ever need anyone..." She cuts me off shaking her head lightly and tilting her head while looking at me.
"I know you probably think talking will help but it won't Luke. It'll only make things worse and besides he isn't as bad as he used to be. He's getting better and he punishes me because I don't listen." She shrugs as if what he does is perfectly normal. I wanted to say something like he doesn't punish you the right way or he should never put his hands on you but I don't. "Anyway I can't go out in public." She runs a small finger over her cheek where her latest bruise will be for quiet some time and will break my heart even more having to look at it. "But we can stay here and do something."
"I'm okay with that." I say with a small slow nod.
For the next hour we debate on what horror movie we should watch. Only a few conversations other then that are exchanged such as how school was going for me since she had dropped out. Or how my dog was doing. Or how my mother was. We finally decide on Texas Chainsaw Massacre even though I have already seen it a hundred times but I'd watch it a hundred times more if she wanted me to. She grabs the black fuzzy blanket from the recliner a few feet away from her and drapes it over both of us. She looks at me and smiles.
"Remember when we would sit and watch movies like this and snuggle under the blankets?" She turns her attention back to the t.v. As the movie begins to play.
"I do." I say nervously. "Or that one time we built a fort in my room and refused to come out until my mom made us cookies?" I chuckle a little at the memory.
We were maybe six or seven and back then we were into castles and what not. My dog, Molly, was the dragon. We absolutely refused to come out until my mom made us chocolate chip cookies. It wasn't that great of a fort until my older brothers helped a out a little with it. Soon it became something we never took down or destroyed. It was kind of like our escape from reality for a little while. That's one thing I have cherished all those years of not being in contact with Wylie.
"Oh my gosh I do!" Her eyes light up as she looks at me making me blush a little. "Molly was the dragon. Your mom makes the best cookies I've ever had." She smiles turning back to the t.v.
"Maybe you could come over tomorrow night for dinner. My brothers will be in town and I know they'd like to see you too." I offer expecting a yes from her with a triumphant smile for not being such a coward.
"I, uh, I don't want them to see my face. I look hideous and I don't want them to question anything." She shakes her head biting on the inside of her lip.
"You don't look hideous Wylie. You know they wouldn't. They haven't changed much. At least give it a thought." I encourage her with a soft smile.
"I'll think about it." She replies flatly.
"Thank you." I whisper finally deciding to stop gawking at her and watch the movie.

•••••
Hello beauties😼
So I decided to update, probably going to double update🙆
I really enjoy writing this story and I hope you like reading it. As always, comments are welcome. Criticism is ALWAYS good and will help me as a writer.
Ps, you're beautiful😘
•Des💙•