Paper Birds

Chapter Twenty-One ; The Rain Comes Crashing Down

I opened the window as quietly as I could, hoping not much rain was getting through into our house. I pushed myself up on the window ledge, trying my best to make it over. Trying to steathily climb through a window so your brother won't have a heart attack while wearing a very tight dress is not a piece of pie.

I underestimated my strength so I ended up falling on the floor with a loud thud.

"Claire?"

I cursed under my breath at the sound of Robbie's voice.

"Yeah?"

"Come here."

Those were never good words, but he didn't sound particularly angry, so that was a bonus. I did what I was told, brushing off some of the water that didn't seep into the fabric of my dress already. I peeked nervously into the office. "Yes?"

He didn't even look up to me from what he was doing. "Where were you?"

I figured lying would only backfire on me, so I told him the truth, "Harry took me to a party. There was aclohol and he got drunk so I left and came home. I blackmailed Max into covering for me. I'm really sorry."

I fiddled with my fingers anxiously. Robbie seemed lost in thought. What would he do? He already kicked me out, sort of. Personally, I thought that this was the least scandalous thing I've done in the past week, but that was just me.

"I'm proud of you, Clairedy."

Well that surely snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Yeah, you did sneak out, again," he continued, "but you did the right thing by leaving." He paused, a weak smile spreading across his face. "Maybe you are a Coligan after all."

I smiled broadly. This was the first time I could remember him ever being proud of me. Normally he'd gone on rampages of the shame I've brought down on the family, which I'm sure you and I have had enough of. 

"Thanks."

"Now, go to bed."

I rolled my eyes, the smile still stuck on my face until I went into my bedroom and saw myself in the mirror. Despite what had just happened, I was still stuck in a very sticky situatino with Harry that only made me feel sick to my stomach. My phone rang the instant I set it on my dresser, but I let it go to voice mail.

"Hey, Claire." That wasn't Harry's voice. It was Zayn's. "Harry is really upset about whatever happened. Seriously, he's throwing a fit. Please answer your phone. Thanks, bye."

I stared at my phone for minutes on end, debating whether or not I should call him. I glanced at the clock and saw how late it was, so I decided against it. I peeled off the dress, which was a real challenge, wiped off my make up and destroyed my drawers looking for a pair of sweat pants. No clean pants. I checked the closet, and of course the first outfit in there was the one that Harry lent me just this morning. I slammed my closet shut and gave up, throwing on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt despite my freezing body. Opening up the closet in the hallway, I grabbed every blanket in there and piled them all up on my bed before finally climbing in. I was asleep the moment my head in the pillow.

----

White.

She was bathed in white.

She held a gun. It was silent. Alone. She was dangerous because she held a gun.

Then there was a voice. Familiar. "They're weak," it told her. The voice was husky and bold, shivering the girl to the bone.

She pulled the trigger on the gun, the shot leading into nowhere.

"Good. Use your strengths," the voice said.