Running

Chapter Ten

* Ryleah's POV *

It has been two weeks since I have told Ryder what my past life has been like. Two weeks since he told me what happened between him and his sister.

I haven't looked at him any differently; and I haven't pressed the matter either. He doesn't have to tell me. He probably regrets telling me anyways.

Ever since I told him, my father has haunted me in my dreams. My mother has been there, too. But she just gives me a sad, faraway look, and runs away. She leaves me.

For the past few nights, I've been too afraid to sleep. Too afraid to see him again, too afraid to relive it all.

I can tell by the look in his eyes that Ryder is concerned. Not in an affectionate way, but in the way that he would for the leaders of his rebellion. He is counting on me to lead him and his family to a better life. I'm broken, and they're counting on me. Go figure.

"Ryleah," Ryder's voice snaps me out of my trance. "Lunch." His voice sounds sad, and a sigh follows his words.

I follow him out of the room, and he stops me with his hand. "Hey. What's wrong? Why aren't you sleeping? What's on your mind?"

My conscience struggles within me, debating on telling him. "Well... Stuff and things." I said with a small smile, hoping my joke would lift the tensions.

His face remained the same. "Ryleah, I'm serious. What's gotten into you? You're the next leader; you can't be dismissing your health. You ca-"

"Stop okay?!" My voice slices through his words, raging emotions clawing at my chest so fiercely it hurts. "I'm afraid to go to sleep because all I see is him." Hysteria is creeping through my words, and I'm having trouble containing my sanity.

"Ryleah... I- I didn't..." His words fade out as the world gets darker, and I become dizzy. "RYLEAH!" Ryder's panicked voice is the last thing I hear before I am ripped away into another world. A world I would rather leave in the dark.

*FLASHBACK *

"RYLEAH!" Suddenly Ryder's voice is my dad's, and the dorm room is my living room. "Where the heck are you?! I need my coffee, you stupid girl!"

I remember this night, from so long ago. It was one of the worst. I was ten years old, and my dad had just gotten home from the bar. He was totally wasted, and would remember none of this in the morning. That's how it always went between my father and I.

I feel the fear hammering in my heart, but I'm not afraid. Then I see the child I was when I was ten, cowering in a small corner, trying to disappear. I am her. I feel what she feels.

I see my father walk into the room, his red and black plaid shirt stained with whiskey.

"Ryleah! I called for you, didn't I? Now get your lazy butt up and make me coffee!"

If I could go back in time and do what he asked, I wouldn't have a thick jagged scar running all the way down my left side. But I can't. All I can do is watch.

"I don't want to." I hear myself say. He is holding that stupid gigantic coffee cup that ruins everything. Walking over to her, he picks her up by the collar of her shirt.

"What did you just say," he growls, inching his face closer to the younger version of me. Although I am only spectating, I can smell the alcohol on his breath. I can feel his hand on my shirt. And it terrifies me. "Because it sounds like you told me 'no'."

"I did." She says.

Throwing her to the ground, I feel pain spiking through my back, and in my head. I feel it all, and I know it just gets worse.

"You will do what I say!" He barks.

I see tears streaming down her face. "No!" She sobs. "I want mom!"

In a burst of anger, he throws that forsaken coffee cup at that young Ryleah, and it shatters on her side. I scream in pain and clutch my side, feeling the blood soak through my shirt, and watching it soak through the other me. Whatever this is, it's twisted.

"Don't you dare bring her up again! Ever!" He snarls, kicking my bloodied side. Kneeling down, his shoes crunching broken glass, he smacks the side of my face. "You hear me, Ryleah?"

* END OF FLASHBACK *

"Ryleah? Do you hear me, Ryleah?"

I gasp awake, making Ryder jump back. Sweat dampens my hairline, and drips down my face.

"What the heck was that?" Ryder asks.

I can't contain it anymore. Sobs burst from my mouth, and everything comes rushing back. That was six years ago. Several months ago, it was almost as bad. When I left. When I refused to go.

I cover my mouth with my hand, trying to muffle the sound. Ryder just sits there, waiting for me to finish.

After I calm down, he looks at me skeptically. "You ready to talk yet?"

'I don't think I'll ever be ready.'
Is what I'm thinking. But instead, I just nod.

"It was a flashback." I say, my voice raspy from crying. "I was seven. My dad had just come home from a night of heavy drinking, and was incredibly wasted. He had no sense of what he was doing. He never did, and that's why I don't blame him. Anyways, he wanted me to make him coffee. He had his favorite mug out, and from when I was younger, I vaguely remember my mom making coffee for him out of that every night. I told him I didn't want to, and he threw me on the ground yelling at me to do it. I wanted my mom at that very moment. No matter that she left me, I knew she still loved me, somehow, someway. So I told him that I wanted her. We that wasn't what he wanted to hear. He threw that stupid coffee cup at me, and proceeded to yell at me for mentioning her. I was ten. Ten. I couldn't go to the hospital. I couldn't do anything except find that band - aid box and put them all along my side. I have the ugliest scar from it, because it got infected. When he was sober, my dad took me to the doctor to get it fixed. They couldn't stitch it though. I'm not sure why. It made me happy when he did that, although he wasn't happy about it. It confirmed my thoughts of the fact that he still loved me, and cared for me. I still love him, I think. But anyways, that's what happened. Nothing exciting."

Ryder sits there, his mouth wide open. "You don't blame him. After everything he did, you don't blame him? He took out his grief, his pain that his wife left him on you, and you don't blame him?"

"He was never sober. How could I? He wasn't himself, he was the person when the alcohol took over. He wasn't in control."

"You're too nice to everyone." He muttered softly, and opened his arms.

Slowly, I walked into his embrace and sighed. It felt good to have people who care.

A / N

Hey! Big break, bigger chapter? Sorry, I was really at a loss on where to go. But thanks to studiocfan for helping me figure out the flashback idea!( you should check her book out )

School is out, so I should update more frequently. My dad is sending my iPod in, so hopefully it will get fixed. :)

That's about all. Thanks for sticking with me and this story, Love you!

- Lacey ❤️