Enemy Basis | COMPLETE

42| pavement date

The next couple of days passed quickly but not uneventfully.

The police had come, asking questions about Clarice. Rehashing every single detail was quite difficult, considering all I wanted to do was erase that part of my life from my mind forever. Most of the officers were nice but relentless in their pursuit for answers and did not cut me any slack. There were points where I didn't want to give the full detail but I had to remind myself that I no longer had to protect that woman. She would have to suffer the consequences of her actions and I would rather if it was far, far away from me.

I had trouble sleeping too. It was futile not to try and think about Clarice and what it all meant, no matter how much I tried to shove it from my mind. The same thoughts swarmed my head, how someone who was meant to love you unconditionally could do something like that. It hurt to think about but I knew it wouldn't be like this forever. I was grieving in a way and it was all too fresh. That was okay - all I needed was time.

That being said, some people weren't taking it as well as I had. My father had stormed out of the room, the visible rage shaking from his shoulders. I knew he would double up his efforts from never letting me out of his sight again, unfortunately for me. My friends who had come to visit me all seemed shocked at the turn of events, pity shooting out of their eyes as they stared at me like I was made out of glass. I hated being looked at like that; it made me twitchy.

The only reaction that I could handle was Dorran's. It was weird that he knew exactly what I needed but he was always full of surprises. He stayed by my side, listening to my every word and although I could see the anger in his features towards my mother, he stayed sitting next to me, holding my hand tightly. No words but I didn't need them from him. His presence was enough to soothe me.

After a couple of days, someone from the authorities came to tell me that they had run some tests on my mother, and she was being sent to a psychiatric ward rather than prison. I didn't take the name of it; I didn't care for it. Even if she had been mentally unstable, too much had happened between us to ever face her again and not see the monstrosities that she had committed.

It had been a couple of weeks of resting, thinking and trying not to go crazy before the doctors came in and told us that I was being discharged the following day. I was elated. I could finally leave, go home, wherever that was. But I wasn't going to dwell too much on that - this was good news. I was finally free.

The morning of my release, Dad claimed that he was going to come and pick me up. I'd gathered all my belongings, everything I'd accumulated during my stay, and stood by the door, ready to leave... when Dorran walked in.

"I thought Dad was picking me up?" I blurted out, the words escaping before I could stop them. Around him, I was a mess, all my composure melting away. He had this effect on me.

He ignored my question. Instead, he went to the bedside table and started scribbling on a piece of paper. I couldn't resist the urge to follow him, peering over his shoulder at the messy scrawl.

"'Dorran picked me up. See you tomorrow,'" I read aloud. "Um, since when am I leaving with you? And you've met my dad – he'd never agree to this."

His presence was overwhelming and it was making my head spin. But with Dorran, it was always like this, this constant push and pull. I couldn't help but argue with him; it was the rhythm of our relationship, the foundation of it all.

He just turned, his eyebrow arched, and looked me straight in the eye. "What?"

"Trust me," he said simply. "You want to come with me."

He turned back, grabbed my bag, and waited for me in the doorway.

"And why is that?"

"Your dad's a bit intense right now. He'll take you home and lock you away until it's 'safe' again, which, knowing him, will probably be twenty years. Feeling lucky, Grandma Darcy?"