Life's Misfortunes

Chapter 12 - Healing

Sophie gazed down upon Mark as he lay twitching on the hastily put together bed of blankets and sacks. She gently wiped his forehead with a damp cloth, and smiled a little as he let out a small sigh of relief.

When she had found him, she was sure he was dead, but he had been breathing, so she had half carried-half dragged him to her little shed. 

Casting her eye about the shed, she realised how small and pitiful it was. Over the years she had tried to make it more homely. The photos of her family lined the shelves along one wall, whilst some of her artwork was stacked against the back wall. Sophie had fixed up the holes a while back, and now the shed was completely waterproof, though the wind still penetrated the thin planks of wood on stormy nights.

Mark jerked and a small moan escaped from between his lips. Sophie re-dampened the cloth, and laid it across his forehead. As she brushed his hair away from his eyes, her breath caught in her throat. 

She hadn't noticed before - as she was too busy trying to avoid him, or save his life - but above his left eyebrow was a scar almost identical to one on her wrist that she had received when her mother had slashed her with a broken bottle.

She traced his scar with her thumb, and then her own. They were so similar, it was unreal.

Her eyes flicked across his entire form, and came to rest upon his closed eyes. She wished they would open so she could lose herself in their deep misty grey colour.

Mark jerked violently, and his hand caught Sophie across the cheek as she tried to move away. Shaken, Sophie crept back towards his side, and pinned his arms by his sides as he continued to thrash. She had underestimated his strength, due to his skinny frame, and it took all of her strength to hold him in place until the fit subsided.

When Mark finally calmed down, Sophie laid the cloth over his forehead again. She was worried that the beating he had received might have damaged him more seriously than it looked. His arms only had a few bruises, but she hadn't dared to check his chest, back or legs, afraid of what she might find, but also embarrassed at the thought. She would wait until he awoke, and then ask his permission.

Pulling a few more sacks over from the wall, Sophie curled up beside him, and let exhaustion drag her into a fitful sleep.

***

Sophie shot up into a sitting position.

Wondering what had caused her to wake so suddenly, she pushed aside the bundle of sacks and rose slowly to her feet. Casting her eye about the dimly lit shed, she fumbled for the old watch she knew was on the middle shelf.

Casting a torch over the watch she groaned. It was only half past three in the morning.

Turning to go back to bed, Sophie froze. Mark was no longer in his makeshift bed.

Unsure what to do next, Sophie started to turn towards the door, but a slight movement in the back corner of the shed caught her eye.

Mark was standing right in the corner, staring straight at her.

Sophie took a step towards him, but he seemed to shrink away from her, so she turned and put on the large torch, which illumated the entire shed.

Once her eyes had adjusted to the bright light, Sophie turned back towards Mark and stopped short as she realised he was standing directly in front of her.

His right hand slowly came up to her face, and gently caressed the bruise on her left cheek, a reminder of his fit last night.

Sophie stood stock still as his hand moved to her chin and lifted her face so he could look directly into her eyes.

Slowly, and very carefully he spoke. "Did...did Jordan do this... to you?"

Sophie lowered her gaze and shook her head.

"No?...Then...." Mark trailed off into an awkward silence.

"It doesn't matter" Sophie assured him, reaching up to remove his hand from her face, but Mark was insistent.

"It does matter. What happened?"

Sophie let out a small sigh. "You were in a bad way last night. You had some sort of mini fit. You....your hand caught me as I tried to help." Sophie took a quick breath and continued before Mark could interrupt. "But don't worry about it. It's not your fault." And she then whispered, "Besides, I've suffered a lot worse."

Mark stared at her like she was a new species of plant. Lost for words, his hand dropped down to his side, and he took a step back. But Sophie closed the gap between them. "I said it doesn't matter. Don't you dare blame yourself for the state those boys put you in." She looked up at him and was surprised to find not anger, not sorrow, and not disgust, instead, deep in his eyes was a look of thankfulness, and.....longing?