Breaking Hope (Finding Sky edit)

Chapter 27

I sat quietly in the hotel room I was forced into after attacking David after that statement, pausing to question if I made the right move. The news about him being my Uncle didn't settle to well in my mind, and it was almost like a trigger was released, telling me to fight against him. I didn't even realise what I was doing until I was restrained by the two younger adults – his kids. I only know they were his kids by the way they kept asking if their "Dad" was okay. I felt physically sick to my stomach knowing I was related to these scumbags. They were the poison of the world, making everything they touch waft with corruption and fraud. However, I was strangely proud of the injuries I had caused to Mr. Reed. Before the male child of Mr. Reed, who must be my cousin, smacked me around the head knocking me out, I remember smiling up at Mr. Reed, seeing his face dripping in blood with a black eye already formed and a semi-broken arm from the way the bone looked. He deserved everything he got, and worse. It probably wouldn't bode to well with me, and I will pay for that with similar injuries, but for now the truce meant I was left in my room waiting for revenge. Just waiting. Waiting will kill me. I jumped up from the soft deep bed and looked out the window, seeing the same view from the office I was just in, just shifted a few feet to the left. I was still kept up within staff grounds, hidden away and locked up from the real world. I couldn't contact anyone from up here. I was a sitting duck.

I heard a gentle knock on the wooden door, and I didn't reply. As if I was going to let the person in who would probably beat me to near enough death. I could've laughed at that idea. But the person knocked again and my gut felt a bit off. Not behaviour that would be likely from a mass murderer or someone related with Mr. Reed. Sure enough, I heard a key card enter the gap outside the room, and the door buzzed open and I started shaking. I didn't want to do this. Why did my mind act in such a way? I would have only led on more injury to myself. I looked at the door as a small girl came in, closing the door shut behind her before hesitating to look at me. She seemed timid, and even her colours showed me her fear.

The person who stood before me must have been in her early twenties, with long blonde hair and dark brown eyes, wearing blue skinny jeans and a white button up blouse with a blazer on it. The way she held herself showed the lack of confidence she held within herself, almost like her self esteem was too low to even consider being any harm.

'Hope?' She gently asked, and when she stuck her hands in her blazer pocket I noticed she was shaking and I wanted to ask her why she was acting in such a way. I frowned at her, my gift enabling like it was let out of a jar with the lid loosened for the first time. The colours around her showed me she was not a threat. She had a light orange of self doubt and a chocolate brown of self hate, too. But a gentle pulsing blue that showed me she wanted to be allies, to help each other. And none of this was set up. Still, I turned my back to her. As if I was going to trust someone based on that stupid gift that decided to open itself when I was bloody kidnapped. It could just be my delusional mind. Instead, I turned my back to her, sitting on the side of the bed.

'Hope, please, we don't have much time. I've disabled the bugs in the room that records speech, we need to talk now. Dad has gone out for a while, so it's safe to try telepathy in order to reach Oscar.' She quickly said, walking over to me.

'It's a trap.' I replied, but I looked at her colours and she was not lying. It wasn't a trap.

'Hope, please listen to me. Please. I want to leave this stupid empire my Dad made. He said I'm safe here, but I'm never safe – not around him.' She said, and suddenly my heart dropped. I saw her take off her blazer, and then unbutton her shirt, taking it off so she was only in a thin black camisole. Whilst I questioned the motive of her bizarre actions, it all became clear as the shirt dropped to the ground. Bruises and cuts lined her entire body, some worse than others but most of them were recent. Some looked so deep they required medical attention for stitches or to fight infection. I looked at her, the girl standing before me with tears in her eyes, almost begging me to help her. I stood up from the bed, tracing my finger around a mottled green bruise on her arm.