TPoB (First Draft)

Chapter 4

PRE CHAPTER CONTENT WARNING: People sensitive to themes of abuse should be weary of this chapter.

 Attwell stood in front of the mirror of the church bathroom inspecting the mark left on his cheek. There was a big bruise paired with an open wound where Caldwell's ring landed. He gingerly cleaned it with a wet paper towel, wincing at the initial contact with the cold water.

Attwell didn't know whether to be upset with himself or shocked with Caldwell. Sure he'd yell and send Attwell to the cellar, maybe on occasion grab his arm a bit too hard, but it was more than rare for him to purposefully harm Attwell. He didn't much look forward to having to find some excuse as to what happened to him, but took solace in the fact that he could hide out in one of the stalls for a while until he came up with one.

Soon after cleaning the wound as he looked for bandages, the tears came. It wasn't that it had hurt that badly, in fact he could hardly feel it through the adrenaline. Neither was it that he was that upset about the incident. Truthfully it was a combination of the two. His body ached from having his breath stolen from him and he'd lost one of his favorite pieces of music. Not to mention how hard it would be for him to find solace in his music for some time now. He'd only have the gospel songs to play at home and at the church Caldwell would be watching him like a hawk.

In the midst of his search Attwell froze at the sound of the door. He strained to see who was there through the moisture in his eyes, wishing he would've had more time to himself. He was full ready to explain himself to whoever it was until the voice that sounded through the haze caught him off guard.

"Holy shit! Attwell?" She gasped.

Of course it's Chelsea. He lamented as he did his best to wipe away the tears. Honestly, who else would it be at this point.

"Chelsea don't worry I-" He began to explain through his involuntary sniffling but was quickly cut off.

"No don't worry, let me help." She bent down to help Attwell up, being as gentle as she could.

"You really don't have to, I'm alright." He croaked.

He wasn't alright. He didn't sound alright at least. He hated when this happened. He could hardly get the words out as he tried to fight the tears away again. Chelsea looked back at him with concern on her face.

"Just let me help." She reassured, going to the cabinet and taking the first aid kit from it.

A thick tension hung in the silence as she properly cleaned his wound and gingerly put a bandage over it. Neither had any words afterwards, they just sat there for some time. Chelsea was the one who chose to break the silence.

"Attwell, what-" She started.

"It's nothing, really." Attwell interjected.

"Then what happend?" Chelsea asked firmly. "You can trust me."

"I told you, it's nothing. I just tripped and hit the banister on the way down."

"Bullshit." Chelsea tried to find some way to comfort him as she went on. "Look, I know I haven't been the best to you, but you can trust me."

"Bullshit." Attwell couldn't help but let on a grin with that one.

"Oh real clever one genius." She giggled, giving him a hard pat on the shoulder.

When Attwell winced at the playful nudge her face turned right back to concern.

"Alright banister my ass, what really happened?" She urged.

"I can't tell you for both of our sake." He tensed up again.

"He hit you, didn't he?"

"I can't say-"

"So he did." She prodded. "Then why don't you tell someone?"

"That only makes it worse." Attwell finally admitted. "He hardly raises a hand to me but if I were to try to tell someone..."

"Alright, come on." Chelsea got up, offering to help Attwell up as well.

Attwell accepted, letting Chelsea pull him to his feet. For a short while the two continued on in silence. Attwell rinsed the blood from the sink while Chelsea put the first aid kit back together and tossed the wrappers.

"Attwell," Chelsea began with solemn resolve "You can blame it on me."

"No, you don't have to-"

"Trust me, I don't mind taking the fall for you."

"Why've you been so nice to me today? I thought you'd hated me." Questioned Attwell as he again took a seat on the floor.

"Well damn, didn't know I was that bad at making friends." Chelsea joined, sitting next to him this time.

Again a silence hung in the air, this time giving a much different feeling. Instead of the thick tension it held an air of understanding. Attwell took this as a chance to mull over everything that had happened. He was honestly surprised when it really hit him. Of course she had been trying to be friendly, it was so obvious in it's own strange way.

As he thought back over everything something had struck him much harder than the initial pain. Not only did his lungs ach but his back stung. Of course. He thought as he bent over forwards and felt a warm fluid run down his back. The impact with the wall must've opened an old wound from the last time I slept in the cellar.

He chose not to pay it any mind, accepting that his nice white shirt would surely be ruined. Then, to his dismay, Chelsea made a slight sound of concern. I knew I should've worn the jacket today. He lamented as Chelsea spoke up.

"Attwell you're bleeding again!" She exclaimed, getting back up to retrive the first aid kit again.

"Don't worry, I'm alright." He groaned.

Though Attwell appreciated her concern he remained weary of her. The image of the look his father gave him when he'd thought he was growing close to her came to mind. There was truly no telling what Caldwell would do if he knew Attwell became friends with who Caldwell deems the 'Unenlightened.' Attwell already had enough to fear from Caldwell, he certainly didn't want to bring harm to anyone else.

They remained silence as he let Chelsea clean and dress his wounds yet again, knowing they had nothing to say at this point. After the second clean up, just before they were about to leave the bathroom Attwell stopped Chelsea.

"Let me make sure this is clear, I would absolutely love to be friends. However, Caldwell is a man to fear. I don't know what he would do if he were to know I'd made friends with someone such as yourself, but I don't want to find out."

He could tell Chelsea was very confused at this point, but chose to go on anyway.

"The possibility of someone else getting hurt because of my actions is very high, and to be frank, I don't want that to happen to anyone. Maybe a bit more for you in particular."

Attwell started to feel like he was rambling, so he quickly decided to just explain.

"What I mean by that is... Let's be friends Chelsea. Secret friends."

Chelsea was clearly taken aback by his strange proposal when he held out his hand. Attwell couldn't help but feel just a bit embarrassed by his odd way of asking to be friends, and was near giving it up when Chelsea took his hand.

"Whatever you say, dork. Secret friends."

They shook hands in a slightly awkward way and left the restroom. Then is when Chelsea began acting apologetic. To be fair, she was very convincing as she was making sure he was alright.

"Again, I am so sorry." She repeated again and again.

Soon enough the two went their separate ways, exchanging one more 'sorry' and 'it's alright.'