Road Trip

Saturday, July 22nd, 2006, 12:07am

A loud crash tore Gregor from his sleep and made him sit up straight in bed. In his half asleep, delirious state, he figured it was just a dream and started to lay back down when it happened again. His eyes now wide open, and heart beating a little too quickly, he swung his legs over the side of his bed and waited. Listening, for something, anything. Even just the sound of a few footsteps would have him running through the house.

And there it was again, coming from the garage. Not Poppy's car, was the only thing he could think as he jumped out of bed and grabbed the first possibly destructive item he could find: a dictionary. Wow, a dictionary, how much more of a nerd can I be?

    At the next sound, Gregor didn't even care what was in his hands anymore, he ran to the garage and flung the door wide open, the dictionary raised above his head, ready to strike.

    Gregor froze when he saw all the lights on and instead of someone destroying Poppy's car as he had thought, he found Poppy herself sobbing and hazardously running around the garage. She was knocking over tools and bicycles as she tried to drag her suitcase over to the trunk of the car. Gregor dropped the dictionary and ran to her.

    "Poppy, what the hell are you doing?" he demanded and lifted the suitcase with ease, placing it inside the trunk of the car before turning to face her. He put his hands on either side of her face as she shrunk down to the cold floor of the garage. For a second, he pulled his hand away from her cheek, a gash stretching the length of her left cheekbone.

"Poppy, what happened?" he whispered.

The tears that were streaming down her face mixed with blood from that gash. What the hell had her father done now? The skin around the gash was bright red. When Gregor touched it with the tip of his finger, she winced and pulled away before collapsing into him.

The way Poppy's sobs violently racked her whole body made Gregor nauseous. The only thing he could do was hold her tightly, like everything was going to be alright.

Then she made a noise like she was trying to speak. "Hey, Pop. I can't hear you when you're head in buried in my shirt," he said gently and she picked her head up enough for him to hear.

"Dad... f- found out about, the car...." she cried. "Gregor... he- he whipped me," she said and looked up at him. The tears mixed with blood and the terror in her eyes made Gregor want to tear her father apart.

    "I..." she sniffled. "I want to leave... now," she said and was attacked by another fit of sobs. He was about the start rubbing her back, when he saw the blood seeping through her shirt. The blood. Seeping. Through her shirt.

    Carefully, he made Poppy let go of him and he got to his feet before lifting her crumpled body off the cold cement floor. He brought her into the bathroom and sat her down on the edge of the bathtub.

In the time it took Gregor to gather a cloth and some bandages, she had stopped crying and was resting her head against the wall. First, wiped away her tears and cleaned out the gash on her face, adding some healing tape to keep it closed. Then she turned around and took off her shirt.

Gregor sucked in a breath. The marks on her back were already bruised and bright red. Some had been ripped open by the whipping while all the others stood up on her skin. They would definitely scar. A constant reminder of how awful her father had been to her.

His hands were shaking when he brought the cool cloth to her bare skin and she flinched at the contact. Gregor winced. His hands were moving so slowly and gently, but he could tell that every once of her body wanted to scream at the pain in her back. Once she got used to the feel of the cloth on her ripped skin, she relaxed and Gregor began to bandage those as best he could.

    "Poppy?" he started.

    "Hmm?" she replied, the emotional exhaustion of the day catching up to her.

    "You know I would never hurt you, right?" he asked her, not exactly sure where he was going with this. It was late and he was bandaging up a half naked girl who happened to be his best friend and love of his life.

    "Of course I know that," she replied, her voice scratchy and tired. He paused as she reached up to gather her long hair and bring it over her shoulder so he could clean her wounds easier.

    "You also know that I love you right?" he muttered and was surprised at the words that just came out of his mouth.

"Yeah, I know," Poppy said, her shoulders tensing as he touched a particularly delicate part.

Well, there was no turning back now. "No, I mean I actually love you," he stammered and pulled his hands away from her for a moment.

    Poppy turned around to face and her eyes scanned over him. Gregor let his hands drop.

    Moments passed in silence, the tension growing between the two. "Not now, okay?" she finally asked in a quiet voice, though her eyes were desperate.

    "Yeah, sorry," he said, heat rising to his face as she turned around again. He touched one of her marks with the cloth again and her shoulders tensed a little. Not much, but he could tell she felt vulnerable. Too vulnerable.

    When he finally finished bandaging her back, he went to his room and picked up a soft shirt that Poppy could wear. When she pulled it over her head, her body relaxed into it and it looked like she would fall asleep at any second.

    "You can sleep in my bed tonight," he said and led her to his room.

"What about you?" she mumbled absentmindedly.

"I'll sleep on the couch," he whispered and helped her get comfortable in his bed. "We leave in the morning after breakfast okay?" he asked her and after she nodded, he left her to sleep.