It's a Nightmare

Chapter Twenty One

Riley

My boyfriends eyes were lifeless as him, me and my mom walked towards the car. He moved as if he were in great internal pain and I knew that he believed what his horrible Father had told us.

I didn't believe Mr. Frier had told us for a second. Luke was the sweetest person alive. I had examples of his sweet nature stored away for when the time to use them came. Lucas couldn't have chased his own mother away. It wasn't his fault. I was going to prove it to Lucas. He didn't deserve to suffer like this.

On the car ride home, Lucas kept muttering "it's my fault. It's all my fault." His words were quiet, which made me the only one who could hear them.

I tried to hold Lucas' hand, but he curled his hand into a fist. A little piece of my heart broke off. But I made a vow to speak to him later, when it was just the two of us.

I spent the rest of the car ride looking out of the window, watching the drizzle of rain drops race to the sill.
***
"Corey, Auggie. We're home." Moms voice echoed around the empty house. Dad (and Isaac) were still at school and Auggie was at Ava's house. They had scheduled a play date after school today.

I dropped my backpack at the door. Homework could wait; Luke was more important to me than questions in books.

"Come on Luke," I pulled him into his bedroom and closed the door. He sat on the bed. I sat beside him, wincing internally when he shifted away.

Placing my hand gently under his chin, I lifted his gaze to meet mine. And nearly broke when our eyes met. His eyes were full of despair and pain and guilt. Tears threatened to spill over, but I could see he was forcing them back.

"Lucas, we need to change your bandages." I reminded quietly. Too much time had passed. I wanted to let the wounds air dry for a while.

He pulled his shirt off, exposing the thick layer of creamy white bandages covering his upper body, extending to his wrists. Standing in front of him, I started at his chest. Then his back. His collarbone. Shoulders. Upper arms. Wrists.

A line of neat white scars extended from his wrists to his elbows. They were cutting scars. Brodie...

I shook those thoughts out of my head. Lucas needed me now. Brodie could come later.

"Lucas?" The bed creaked as I sat down again. "What's going through your head right now? Come on. You can tell me." Luke didn't talk. He didn't even move.

I'd give him time. I'd come back later.

"I'll come back later Sweetheart. I love you."

I walked out of the room.