The Tears I Shed For Him...

Chapter 27~ What Happened To Innocent 'Til Proven Guilty

"Even though I'm the sacrifice. You won't try for me, not now. Though I'd die to know you love me, I'm all alone...

Isn't someone missing me?"

--Missing {Evanescence}

Chapter 27~ What Happened to Innocent ‘til Proven Guilty?

                “Elaine,” my mother’s voice cooed, smoothing back my hair, “wake up sweetie, you have to get ready.”

            I groaned and tried to roll over on the bed, unfortunately, pain began to stab at me from every angle so it rendered as nothing but a feeble—and rather ridiculous—twitch of my shoulders.

            “Elaine, get up.” My father’s booming voice snapped. I stiffened and peeled my eyes open, fear overriding the sleepiness in me.

            “I’m up,” I croaked, rubbing at my eyes as they adjusted to the lighting. “What year is this?”

            “Very funny,” my mother shook her head, setting a pile of clean clothes on the edge of the bed. “Hurry and get changed, but be careful not to open up the stitches on your leg and ribs. You can stand right? Better yet, never mind that, I’ll get you the crutches, hold on sweetie.”

            My mom continued to ramble on as she searched the far end corner of room. She has changed, in a way she seems warmer with me, as if we’re BFF’s and confide the deepest of secrets. It’s a spotless façade, I have to hand it to her, but I also know the reason why she is doing this. Since I awoke and the news that Bryan…that he was no longer with us; my mother fell asleep holding onto my hand that night. I can’t blame her, it’s hard to lose a child—or at least I imagine it must be. It hasn’t been too easy for me either, I find myself breaking down into sobs over the smallest things that remind me of him, and the fact that I wasn’t even here when his funeral took place makes me feel even worse. All the pain inflicted onto my body while I was in the torture room is nothing compared to this emotional pain—this is far worse. I know I owe my life to Nahuel, since after all, it was thanks to him that I am still alive, but there are times when I stop and reflect…

            If Nahuel would have never met me, if I would have never walked into that library on my first day here in Dallas, everything would have been different. I wouldn’t know of a Nahuel and he wouldn’t know of me. He and his dangerous life wouldn’t pose a threat to my family or I, and my brother would still be alive. There was a moment—just two days ago—Nahuel was telling me a story to help me stop thinking about my brother. It was a kind gesture in his part, but I couldn’t even look him in the eye as judgmental thoughts invaded my mind, such cruel thoughts that I regret even thinking them soon after. How was Nahuel to know this was going to happen? How can a simple game of his escalate so quickly out of proportion?

            Yes, I still had my doubts about him. For one thing, I’m highly positive he was merely just toying with my emotions in the beginning, trying to break me as if this were nothing but a game. Now that reason sparked brightly in my mind, I was able to control my emotions around him and didn’t allow myself to get carried away, after all he still had some explaining to do. In the end however, he did save my life and if he didn’t truly care about me then he wouldn’t have bothered to; I’ll be lenient just because of that.

            Anyhow, it has been a full week since I woke up from my so called “coma”, and now that I was—for the most part—healed, it meant I get to go home.

            Excuse me, I meant to say, I’m ready to go to jail. I swallowed hard just thinking about it, as cold sweat began to pebble the nape of my neck. I knew I wasn’t guilty, I would never do anything like that. It was probably the Bull Dogs, when they broke into my house, they probably left all that there to get back—