day 9
3rd pov
a pain seared through rachels back. almost as if something had crawled into her skin and burst out in her head. she didn't know where she was until the smell of mildew and faint cigarettes filled her lungs. this time, someone was tending her wounds, so she couldn't have been alone.
she was in the room. but this time, someone was stuck with her.
she prayed it wasn't peter. the only was she would be able to get out was him, and he would be no use if he was trapped with her. but then again, she didn't want anyone touching her except him at the moment, so if it wasn't peter, who was it?
she forced her eyes open, slowly, but surely, her heavy eyes laid on a restless eyed peter. he was tending her stomach, even though she hadn't even realized she was in pain there until she focused on the area he was treating.
a yelp escaped her lips. peters eyes fell to her face, and a smile brought onto his lips. he moved over to her head and lifted her head slightly so her skull wasn't resting on the concrete floor. he smiled at her like it was a ray of sunshine on a rainy day. he was happy to see her awake, but why? hasn't it only been a few hours? she was still wearing the same clothes, and peter was-
peter was ok! peter was alive, and he was here!
with all the strength she had, she pulled herself up and grasped the back of his next and swung her arms around him. her back ached and her stomach burned, but she didn't care. all she cared about was peter being ok. his face dung into the crook of her neck, fitting perfectly.
but then reality hit her. they weren't free. they weren't outside, or a police station. they weren't anywhere but trapped.
water fell down her cheeks uncontrollably. maybe it was because of peter, or maybe it was because of their failed attempt of leaving. it could have been because she was scared, but one thing she knew for sure was that all her hope was gone.
she didn't stop. the tears kept going and going. she didn't know what to think. was peter planning against her? was his dad going to hurt them? was he ever going to let them go? what if we had to choose who goes free? what if things get worse from here?
what if one of them dies?
the thought sent shivers through her body. peter still held her close, not showing any signs of letting go. he was whispering little things to her, about how strong she was, and how happy he was that she was ok. then he started to say things about how sorry he was, that he failed me. he was crying, too.
she didn't have the strength to say anything, but if she did, she would tell him how he's the bravest person shes ever met. he saved her life multiple times, and stood up to his dad. he was the only person that gave her hope.
she let go in a gasp. her back had killed her more than ever. the room was filled with a scream of pain as it escaped her lips. she tried to breathe, and tried to find something that would take away the pain, but she couldn't. it seared through her skin like her back was on fire.
peter frantically searched for something to stop this. he lifted her off the rug, kicked it to the side, and laid her back down. the sweatshirt she had wasn't helping her case, and she tried to take it off, but peter had to help. she was only wearing a bra, but that was the last thing she care about.
the cool cement below her had lowered the amount of heat she was feeling, tears still pooled her eyes, falling onto the ground. peter had a glass of cold water next to him, and tipped her head up to take a sip. it had just dawned on her how thirsty she was, too. what else was wrong with her?
"how-" she coughed. "how long have you been in here?" she choked. her voice was crackling again, like the first time she met peter.
"three days."
rachels eyes widened. three days? she was speechless. her stomach dropped, and then the pain there had increased just enough to be noticeable. what had happened to her?
"thre- three days?" she croaked, again. this conversation was getting worse from start to finish. he was stuck here, without my company, basically alone. had he even slept? had his dad come in and say anything to him? as if he was reading her mind, he started to answer some questions she had.
"my dad knocked you out by throwing the gun at you. it hit you right in the back of your head, where he knocked you out when you first came here," he said as if every word he spoke was poisonous to his tongue. "there was only small cut on the back of my head, not too deep. i was conscious the whole time. he dragged you back into the shed, but he dropped you too hard and that's why your back hurts, it covered in bruises," he pauses, throwing a sympathetic look my way.
rachel didn't know what to think anymore. was this it? was this how she was going to spend god knows how long?
"you need rest," peter said to rachel with comfort.
"so do you," she said back. he obviously hasn't slept in days. there was only a twin sized bed. rachel didn't mind sleeping next to him as long as he didn't grope her or something.
"just take a nap or something. besides, the coolness of the ground helps my back. i'll stay down here for awhile," she squeezed peters hand, feeling him drift off as he sat up.
"fine. promise me that you'll wake me up if anything happens?" he said, climbing up on the bed, almost off the edge where he could still reach rachel.
she smiled. "we are in the room where nothing ever happens."
