Teeth »ᴄɵᴍᴘᴌᴇтᴇ«

TWELVE

TWELVE

I gave up. I let the person who'd caught me, lift and carry me. He could have thrown me into the ocean and let me drown and I wouldn't have cared. It had only just logged in: I hate you, Valerie. You are no daughter of mine. She'd disowned me. Hated me. Hated me so much she wanted me dead. And the reason she wanted me dead was because I'd killed dad. Everything was my fault.

Someone, I guess, tried to talk to me. But I couldn't respond. My words seem to sign a contract of their death. It had for my dad and probably had for my mum. Jail would kill her. She wouldn't be able to survive jail for any longer than she had already endured. Too harsh.

I felt a quick jab in my arm. Darkness that had nearly dragged me under, did so, pulling me under with welcoming arms.

Waking, I saw two things. One was that this was not my room. And two was that it was destroyed. Claw marks littered the walls, door and window. The table, chairs, a clock, documents and what looked as though it had been a side table were thrown around the room. Why would they put me in a room like this for?

Hearing the door open, I turned my head to see who was entering. A lady who looked to be in her late twenties entered the room. Creamy yellow ears peeked through the waves of reddish-brown hair that framed a pretty face. Her golden-green eyes widened in fear as she froze on the spot, her ears twisted, showing white marks on the back. Her long creamy yellow tail, banded by black, flicked in nervousness, then curled in showing her fear. Of me?

I wasn't sure how long she stood there, the clock had been broken. But eventually she moved when I didn't move. She walked as though she was preparing to flee. Coming closer, she slowly reached out. Inside I frowned at her actions. Why was she so scared?

I felt tugs from all area's as she slowly and thoroughly checked each wound. Apparently deciding that she didn't need to redress them, she slowly backed out the room with the old dressing. I frowned at her... and she fled as though the hounds of hell were on her heels.

The door opened and I didn't move. It was probably the nurse. I still didn't understand why she had practically ran from the room yesterday.

"Is she okay?" Archie?

"Archie," Lucas. Where was Zane? "We've only just got here."

"Hey, Val," fingers touched mine. Zane. "How you doing?" He stroked my arm.

I opened my eyes to look at him, his hair was in a bed mess and his eyes showed worry. I wanted to ask about my mum, but I wasn't sure whether the question would have been welcome or not. She had been all I could think about last night. She shouldn't be in jail. She won't be able to survive jail. I didn't understand why no one else couldn't see that. If anyone, it should be me doing time, not my mum, she'd never killed anyone. I had.

I felt my fingers curl slightly, wanting Zane's warmth. I wondered how cold my mum must be in a jail cell. Would the guards there be nice to her? Give her a blanket to keep warm? I hoped so, she shouldn't suffer. She'd suffered enough when I'd killed dad.

A hand gripped mine and held. I could hear Archie talking. His voice letting louder and higher pitched, but I didn't understand what he said.

"Val?" Zane called my attention. "Archie wants to know whether you want a éclair? That old bear has sent you boxes since she found out about what happened." He chuckled, the warm sound comforting. "She threatened us too. Said if we ate any she'd eat us. She really does have a soft spot for you, doesn't she?"

Moments later, words were muttered around the room.

"See you in a bit, Val," Zane kissed my hand. "We've got to get to class. We'll come back after." That meant it was midday.

He squeezed my hand then he let go... warmth left, leaving only me with my snow storm of thoughts.

   

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