Prompts

('19) PROMPT: FRAIL

Bells shakes the can harshly, the loud chitter one would find annoying comforting her. Pressing down on it she starts making large strokes, writing carefully with full focus. "Hey!" A loud voice calls, startling her almost enough to drop her can. Hurriedly Bells grabs her duffel bag, shoving the can she was using inside as she stumbles into a run. She can hear the man chasing her, only adding to her racing heartbeat. Making a sharp turn and almost falling onto her side she picks herself up and keeps going. Glancing behind her she notices they're growing closer. Cursing under her breath she doesn't notice the rock in her path in the midst of her panicking thoughts. Tripping and falling she scrapes her hands and knees on the small rocks and gravel beneath her. Before she can get to her feet a hand grabs the back of her jacket hood. Going to hurriedly unzip her jacket she stops to grab at it and pull it down from her neck as she's pulled back. "Rascal," The guy sneers as he gives her a dirty look. Bells stays quiet, grabbing for her duffel bag and hugging it to her chest. Changing his grip from her hood to her upper arm he pulls her along back the way they came. She winces as she's dragged along, hands aching as a warm liquid drips down her knees. While trying to keep quiet small noises of pain slip past her shut lips. She's taken inside a home on the other side of the wall she had been working on. "Sit and wait, don't even think about moving," he growls before leaving the back room she's in. Sitting on the cold floor she stretches out her legs and sets her bag beside her, zipping it up. Stray tears slowly find their way down her cheeks as she stares at her lap. "Hello?" A quiet voice whispers, causing Bells to cautiously look up. "So you're the one doing the spraypainting," a young boy says gently from the doorway. "Hold on!" He says before hurrying off. He soon returns with a small box, it's too dark to get a decent look at it. Turning on a small light beside her he crouches down with her. Now in the dull light she can tell it's a first aid kit as well as a cloth. Bells makes a small hiss of pain as the boy carefully wipes off her knee. "I'm sorry, it's gonna hurt," he apologizes with a frown. "It's alright.." Bells starts but trails off, speaking in a whisper, "thank you." He gives her a small smile, "it's no trouble. What's your name?" He asks, trying to keep her distracted as he cleans off her wounds. "Bells," she answers in the same quiet, almost scared, tone. "I'm Jax. I actually like your art, unlike my dad," the boy, Jax, says as he wraps some gauze around her knees and places a few bandages in the less bad spots. "Really?" Bells asks, clear disbelief in her voice. "Yeah, it's pretty. Is there anywhere else?" Jax questions, referring to the cuts. "Thank you, it means a lot," Bells smiles weakly as she holds out her hands. Gently he cleans them off, only a little gauze around her right hand needed. "Jax!" That same loud voice calls. "I'll go try to talk to him, don't worry," Jax smiles at her before leaving her alone again. Maybe this won't be as bad as she imagined.