Castaway ➳ cth [EDITING/HIATUS]

Chapter 30

Calum's P.O.V.

Guilt.

Guilt was the feeling that washed over me as soon as I noticed my sister standing in front of me and Jorge, tears staining her cheeks as well as the bruises scattered on her delicate skin.

Although I haven't asked her what happened, a tiny part in me could already figure what lead to her injuries. But the other part refused to believe it is true, because who would ever do something that grotesque to a poor eight year old?

Jorge luckily reacted on the moment; he swung himself over the countertop and picked my sister up, carrying her on one of the barstools and setting her down.

"Miriam! What happened? Where's your moth-"

"No!" A screech finally came out of her. "Don't mention her! Don't! It hurts... it hurts..." Her voice became nasal from all that crying. There was no comparison between my way of balling my eyes out and hers. She was all over the place, sobbing and screaming from the top of her lungs.

"It hurts", she repeated and guided her finger onto a spot on her forehead under her bangs.

Jorge and I both sucked in a breath in terror; her entire forehead was smudged with blood and bruises. As I lean forward to inspect the wound closer, a scent which I connected with alcohol find its way through my nasal capacity, and I coughed in disgust.

"We gotta call the cops", I declared and sat back down. Jorge, of course, naturally had no idea what I was talking about or why I had to call the cops to manage the situation. But I knew.

"Miri, tell us what was going on."

I observe my sister looking down at her black, tiny converse, keeping her eyes on them for a long while. "You told me when mommy and daddy get mad, I should come here to visit the Milkshake-man."

The day I busted out of the house angrily and destroyed my mother's tea pot was the day I also assured my sister to seek help whenever she feel threatened. That makes sense now.

My feelings were all over the place. I shouldn't have left her with those monsters alone. My fault. Everything was my fault. Why did I found my escape inside a shabby shack that doesn't contribute a proper shelter? Why was I so damn selfish?

But as I repeated myself not to cry again, I soothe my sister with encouraging words while Jorge dialed '000'. Couple of seconds after, he announced that the paramedics were on their way.

"I'm not feeling good", Miriam suddenly says while touching her head in pain, "I think I'm gonna..."

We observe how her eyelids fall and her body slackers off the bar stool, but I was able to catch her right on point. She blacked out.

At that moment, the emergency vehicle pulls in, couple paramedics leaving the car and pacing towards the door.

"Thank you for arriving so quickly", Jorge chimed in and helped the paramedics to lift the body of my sister onto a stretcher and strapped her in.

"Am I allowed to come with her?" I brought out mentally agonized and rub my palms nervously together.

"Are you a relative or..."

"Yes, I'm her older brother."

The paramedic hesitated for a while until he answered: "Alright. But I'm not entirely sure if you're able to visit her the next morni-"

"But I'm her brother!" I protested, sweat breaking out upon my hairline. It was a hard job to persuade a busy paramedic, but for my sister's sake, I refused to give up. "Why am I not allowed?"

"Only parents are allowed to visit the patients at the moment, it's just how it works, buddy."

Buddy. Scoffing, I face away from him and look into Jorge's worried eyes, begging him to say something, but he remained silent. I couldn't pressure him into anything, so I quickly dismissed my intentions and fell back on the barstool.

The fact that only my parents were allowed to visit her was ludicrous and unfair. Sadly, the doctors had no clue how fucked up our family relation is.

Shaking my head in defeat, I pull myself up once again and follow the paramedic outside.

"Thanks, man." Patting Jorge on the shoulder, I continue my way into the emergency vehicle, climbing inside and fastening the seatbelt of the seat right next to my unconscious sister.

"Can you give us the reason why she's that injured?" A female paramedic emitted distressed without making eye-contact. She fumbled with the straps tightened around my sister's waist and began shoving a needle, connecting her to an IV.

"Honestly, I'm not sure... but... uhm. I don't know."

There was no intention to reveal my messed up life, and I wasn't looking for empathy or even more questions, so I just left it there.

What drives me into lying all the time?

"That's fine, kid. Just wanted to check in. As soon as she wakes up and is able to speak, we'll try to ask her about it."

Giving her a quick nod, I lean back and close my eyes, trying to visualize how badly my father must've beaten her up. Wait, why was I thinking that?

The night he left and beat my sister unconscious with a bottle couple years ago was all of the sudden in my memory again. Anger seethed inside of me, as if I was a volcano, ready to break out.

But for the sake of the paramedics, I remained silent, hiding my feelings behind a mask of emotionless expressions.

Like I do all the time.

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(A/N): AH I HATE THIS CHAPTER AHHH