Guardian

Chapter Four

"Fee! Fee get up!"

I swatted Toby's hand away as I turned away. I tried to go back to sleep, but his hand came back and he roughly rolled me over. I sat up, about to snap at him, but then I saw his face.

There were tears in his eyes and he looked panicked. His hair was stood on end and he looked like he'd just randomly thrown clothes on, obviously having rushed to get out of bed. I looked at him with wide eyes, wondering to myself what the problem could be.

"It's Dad."

That got me up. I was up and rushing around my room grabbing clothing to put on before Toby could say anything else, though it didn't seem like he was going to. I grabbed a pair of flip flops and a light sweater, considering changing out of my pajama shorts, but I didn't have the time, and it was July anyway, it wasn't the cold outside, despite it being four in the morning. I looked around my room, running a hand through my messy hair, wondering I'd left anything behind but didn't think about it anymore. Toby grabbed my hand and pulled me down the stairs, his longer legs going faster than I could so I almost tripped several times. Almost.

Once we arrived downstairs, I was met with the sight of Greg, Paige and my Mum. they all looked the same as I imagined Toby and I did. Panicked, alert, and worried. Though nobody had told me what was going on, and as it turned out, no one was going to. Because as soon as Toby finished going down the stairs, he made a break for the door, everyone else following him out the doors and into the car.

I was shoved in the back between the twins, each of them taking one of my hands, holding them tightly. Paige was sat in the front seat and my mum driving. The ride itself was a blur to me. I didn't remember any of it, going too fast around me. What I did remember was my mother's jumbled words, Paige's soft sobs and hearing the twin's little sniffs, like they were holding tears back.

But I could hear the words she was saying, there was nothing there.

The next thing I knew, I was in the hospital room, staring at my father's pale figure laying on the hospital bed. He didn't look good. His skin was greenish and sweaty, his eyes were closed and his breaths were shallow and harsh. His eye was black and his lip was busted open. he was dressed in a hospital gown, his bloody clothing folded in a pile, among the other things he'd had on him.

There were people talking in the background, I recognized my Mum's voice, Greg's and Paige's and Toby's. There was another male voice. Two of the actually. I didn't make them out, though I didn't really try. I was left transfixed on my father. I remembered that evening when he was called into work for some paperwork. He'd promised me he'd bring me back something. I didn't know what it was, and I never did find out what it was. I was excited, I'd wanted to know what it was.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beeeeeeeee.

There was screaming, crying and wailing. My Mum rushed over to my father's body, throwing herself on it, shaking him. I saw a Peter, my Father's work friend, grabbing her and taking her off him as Doctor's and nurses rushed in, grabbing out machines and taking dad away. I heard Paige sobbing and Toby and Greg's yelling, but really, I was just frozen. I couldn't move, there was nothing there, nothing inside. Just nothing.

I woke up, gasping for breath as I lurched forwards in my bed. My head was in my hands and I tried to control my panting. It was just a dream. I had to keep reminding myself of that. Just a dream. But unfortunately, it wasn't just a dream. It was a memory. I remembered it vividly, though it was five years ago. My birth father died when I was eleven. My mother remarried to Peter when I was fifteen.

I still got nightmares about it. Sometimes I dreamed what happened. Whether it was at the office, or in a market, or on the streets. Was the shooter wearing a coat? A scarf? What color hair did he have? I tried making up stories about it to make me feel better, things like my father being a hero and saving someone by getting hurt instead. Sometimes it made it better, but most of the time, it didn't. And I was left alone crying like always.

Small sniffles came from me as I tried to calm myself. I felt a warmth being wrapped around me, a comforting force. almost like somebody sitting next to me, hugging me and telling me that it was alright.