Castaway ➳ cth [EDITING/HIATUS]

Chapter 33

Calum's P.O.V.

The soft sound of her steady breathing was the only noise that filled the room with the blank walls.

I stared long enough to have each single wound, bruise and cut on her body memorized. Someone must've thrown a bottle at her; or something sharp that cuts as soon as it hits the skin.

An act of vigorousness naturally comes from my father, the way he used to treat us let that remark of selfishness, violence and terror behind and influenced our lifestyle.

A single mother that raises two children with a wide age gap between both of them is a challenge, but a challenge that a mother has to take in love for her son and daughter. It is inhumane to not even attempt to master that challenge and give up on that so quickly.

To think, that bringing back someone that scarred you will fix the situation and make things better. You could compare it with digging your finger in a deep wound, the deeper you dig the more pain will well up and drive you insane and change you.

Those nights I spent in the shack in the forest, away from my mother and father, away from June and away from Ashton is an act of running away from the problem; without actually solving it.

Now that I saw my little sister – the most precious thing I've ever seen in my entire life, injured physically and mentally, drove me crazy. Never in my life do I wish that she follows my footsteps, she deserves better. Deep down, I was aware that she is a kind human and she will grow to a beautiful, young lady that influences people in the most positive way possible.

I wanted her to be the opposite of me: strong, courageous and warmhearted.

The tips of my fingers tenderly caress her left cheek that was spotted with dark yellow bruises with purple rings around them, and paid attention that I wouldn't accidentally make a wrong move and hurt her. Although I couldn't stay with her all day, even if my heart desires, she needs someone that will cheer her up, someone with a positive attitude.

At that moment, surely I needed to change something. Something in my life needed to be fixed in order to be a role model for my sister. She is a kind-hearted person, but who will shape her? Who will be the sculptor that shapes her into the things that contribute the good for the world?

I sat on a tiny, mauve-colored stool for hours, just staring down at her, ignoring the heavy winds outside that blew chilling sounds through the abscissions of the leafs and the bare branches indicating the frosty season was about to strike the country of Australia.

My thoughts were with her. And I was willing to change mentally and emotionally.

It was a quick process: I removed myself from the barstool, aching from the cramps that washed over me as soon as I stood tall of my feet, and planted a kiss on my sister's forehead before leaving the room and snaking through the busy nurses and doctors in the hallways.

The cold soon overwhelmed me the minute I stepped outside and I pulled my hood over my head, staring down at my cellphone in my hands, unsure where to start my, as I would call, mission of change.

After dialing Ashton's number from memory, I hold the phone up to my ear and tapped my foot in eager tension. It rang three times before I hear Ashton's voice that sounded like he ran a mile-long marathon.

"What do you want?" He impatiently rants. "Have no time for you right now, mate."

Ignoring his words, I reply: "we need to talk, it's urgent. Meet me at the shack in half an hour. Quit being an ass-hat for once and listen what I just said."