I'll Pick You Up When You're Down // Kellic

Chapter 25 Pt. 1 - Bloody Knuckles

{First Half of Chapter}

*Vic's POV*

"Come on Copeland, lets get your diaper changed." I grab the diaper bag and walk causally into the woman's bathroom.

I saw a little girl with pigtails washing her hands in the sink and when she saw me her eyes widened in fright and quickly ran out.

"It's not my fault the men's bathroom doesn't have a change table." I say as I set her down on the table. "Besides, I'm gay. Right Cope?"

"Dada."

I smile proudly but then stop as I open her diaper.

Holy mother of pearl.

I take a deep breath careful not to breathe through my nose as I reluctantly wipe her currently not so smooth babies bottom.

This is probably the only downside to parenting. I can't wait till she's potty trained, yet I don't want her to grow up.

I put on a clean diaper and pick her up. "Come on princess, lets go see mama and the dorks."

Just when I exit the bathroom Mike frantically bursts through the front door and runs towards me pulling me into a tight hug. Alright then... I didn't leave him that long ago.

When he lets go I see he's crying "What happened?" I whisper not entirely sure I wanted to know.

"Let me take Copeland first." He reaches out and I hand her to him. "I'm letting you go outside yet." I hear faint sirens gradually getting louder and louder.

"Something happened-" I pause. -to Kellin. Didn't it?" The sirens stop and I could see a police care and an ambulance outside.

"Yes."

That was it.

That was when I snapped.

I punched the wall nearest to me, again and again until my knuckles were bloody and I could move my hand.

I was screaming, cursing, yelling, and effortlessly stringing profanities. All while tears were streaming down my face.

Strong hands grip my arms behind my back and drag me out of the restaurant, throwing me outside just as the ambulance pulls away.

Mike was standing there watching me carefully, knowing not to get involved with me.

I give the wall one last blow before dropping to my knees, bawling my eyes out. The anger was gone, but all that remained now was guilt.

I don't even know what happened to him. He could have gotten a paper cut and I could be overreacting but somehow I could tell it was something bad.

Something terrible.

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Of all the stories I've read I've noticed something that every single one of the authors had in common, everyone of them prompted that readers comment.

That's when I figured out why I don't upload.

It's because of my paranoia, it's because of my anxiety. Every time I get an email saying on of you guys commented I die of fear.

Don't get me wrong I love every single comment that you guys leave but it's just scary for me, knowing your true thoughts on my story.

Just go a little easy on me ;P

I LOVE YOU.