Oakley [ON HOLD]

17

"Elijah please.. please just let me see her. I need to see her again" I almost cry out as he holds me back from her door, slowly pushing me down the hallway. I struggle against his arm, swatting and trying to get around him as he takes my hits and collisions. His face remains grim as he repeatedly mumbles words, saying we need to go and that it's all right.

"Abel stop" he finally says in a louder volume that finally reaches my mind that's occupied by her.

"You hurt her man. You made her cry. I don't know what exactly happened but I know she needs time and you going back there right now when she's told you that will only make it worse." His hands dig into my shoulders keeping me in place as his eyes plead for me to understand.

He's right. I need to give her time. I've hurt her and she needs time.

I dig my palm into my eyes, wiping away my tears as I nod back at him muttering ' you're right'.

"Ok, come on then" he sighs out as we turn and head toward the exit.

♡♡♡

"Oh my god... I knew I had heard her last name somewhere" Elijah mutters in disbelief.

After everything happened with Oakley yesterday we left the hospital and went to crash at a hotel. Then this morning Elijah convinced me that we needed to get back to the academy and that giving Oakley space would be good, so now we're on a train back.

My brows furrow as I lean forward, my elbows resting on my thighs. Elijah seemed frozen with his eyes darting all over his screen as I reach over and nab his phone.

Pushing him back lightly as he lunges forward slightly from across from me to grab it back, my eyes lowered to the phone screen.

'An Arison tragedy. Oakley Arison, teenage cello prodigy of New York, reportedly injured and hospitalized during the U.S.A-European world competition. An inside source says they're unsure she'll be able to perform again'

My eyes dash over the words, pictures of Oakley and her foster parents at galas and events alongside singular pictures of Oakley in cafes and on the street run down the small news reporting page.

"Oh my god" I breath out.

"You don't underst-"

That's what she tried telling me before, that I didn't understand. Is this what she means? The fact that she's in the public eye? I thought it didn't matter, an adult hits a child in their custody and that's child abuse no matter what, but maybe she thinks that's the way it has to be. She never likes to talk about them, the way she looks at families so warmly when we went out like she wishes she could experience that, was that taken from her?

"Wait what do you mean you knew you heard it somewhere?" I question Elijah.

"Remember I thought it sounded familiar a while back, I think my sister mentioned the name when I called her when she was in New York."

I hummed in response as I exited the page and searched up the family name. Endless pictures, news reporting's and articles popped up and I scrolled down, grimacing at how much the paparazzi and such had been invading Oakley's life.

I mean of course I've had something like this due to my fathers company but nothing to this extent. These articles dig into her life, her competitions, her experiences, a few of them suggesting questionable things happening behind locked doors, and even some questioning how she ended up in the foster system and her parents deaths.

The more I see the more my mind spins, other people and paparazzi, questioning the characters of Donna and Reed and their treatment of Oakley. In some way it almost relieves me, the fact that I'm not stretching for meanings to things that aren't there, that other people who don't know Oakley at all are questioning how she's being treated and cared for.

My mind spins at all the information, hoping that she was telling the truth when she said that nothing like that had happened before, that she hasn't been suffering for all this time.

Elijah's lips move as he speaks but his words drown out, my mind blurry at all the information and possibilities, my body buzzing with worry.

And yet with all of this running through my mind the one thing still at the back of my thoughts is her. How she looked so defeated and raw as she wiped her tears and bit her lip to stop from crying after my harsh words.