Chasing Blue

#10: Shades of Blue.

But he's so beautiful; such a beautiful disaster. And if I could hold on through the tears and the laughter, would it be beautiful?
- Kelly Clarkson

. . .

Present

Isabella

I close the main door and lock it in three different places. I've had it with the housebreaking. I turn around and catch my dad talking to both Austin and Liam at the foot of the staircase. His eyes flicker at me. He nods at both Austin and Liam and they walk up the stairs. 

The living room is empty now. I walk towards the couch and plop on it warily, keeping Grace's letter on my lap. I make sure my injured arm takes the support of the handrest and decide to keep it still until the aching abates. Dad walks over and sits on the other side of the couch, taking the support of the other handrest. 

We both stare at the blank television, our heads resting deep inside the cushiony headrest. My breathing is so calm, I hope it stays like this for the remaining years of my life. 

Dad lifts his legs and rests them on the coffee table in front of us, one ankle on top of the other. "She's a nice girl, Julie." He tells me and I hum in response. "She said she wouldn't leave until she knew you were okay." 

My lips curl upwards. "I've spent four years with her and I didn't even know her until today." 

"May recognized her." My father tells me and I nod, in accordance with what Julie had told me earlier. "I'm so grateful to that girl." 

I was so grateful too. Every one of us was. I don't know how I would've ever stopped Noah if it wasn't for Julie. That reminds me, I have the tapes that I need to take care of. I try to come up with the best possible destruction. I don't want to dismantle them. I wonder why Noah taped them. With all the technology in the world, I wonder why he recorded it in the most difficult and olden method of recording. I begin to think if this has a meaning. 

The bag of tapes lies under the coffee table. I hate the look of it. It gives me chills. But I shouldn't do anything with it until Grace sees it. It's her call. She can destroy it however she wants. 

"Bella," my dad kills the silence with the pain in his voice when he utters my name. "I-I don't know how to talk to you about--what to say to you regarding--I'm r-really scared." He turns to me and his eyes twinkle with tears. "Are you okay?" 

"Dad," I reach out to his hand and hold it. 

A tear slips down his eyes and falls onto his cheeks. Surprisingly, this doesn't affect me as much as Jacob's incident did. All I'm worried about are the tapes. I don't if it doesn't affect me so much because I've already faced it once and the second time is not a first or if I have really gotten over the incident. If my subconscious mind has become so strong that the whole incident seems to have no backlash on me. 

Dad had struggled to talk me out of this when he got to know about Jacob. He was angry and indignant but a part of him had become weak and marred. Just the way I didn't know how to step outside my room for a few days, my dad couldn't communicate with anyone. He's always struggled to talk people out of trauma because he is always afraid that he might say something wrong. 

He sighs loudly and clutches my hand with all his might. Afraid to let me go again. He wipes the single tear on his cheek and he doesn't look at me for a very long time. 

"I told Grace and your mother." He tells me and I close my eyes. "I had to, at some point, Bella. We can't hide this from them." 

"What did they say?" I stare at the coffee table.