The Delinquent's Haven

Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

 

          "Odessa might be coming back," Darin said after awhile of standing in the middle of her bedroom.  She sighed, looking up from the details she was putting on the small bird she'd drawn earlier.  Watching his face carefully, she saw a hint of pain. 

          "Ryan's really happy," he slowly stated and she narrowed her gaze.  There was nothing on his face except a blank expression.

          Before long, she stood and walked over to him, slowly placing her hands on either sides of his face.  Turning his face gently with her hands, they locked gazes with one another.  Haven was searching to find something that could answer her questions and Darin was searching for comfort in her eyes.

          Sighing, Haven finally asked, "What's wrong, Darin?" 

          "She's a psycho, Haven.  I don't say that to be an asshole; I say it because she's just dangerous.  She has random outbursts, she beats on Ryan when she loses control and then she covers everything up with her little, innocent stares," he said before groaning and tearing himself away from her.  Going over to the window, he stared out at the tree in the backyard.

          "I don't know what to say, Darin," she whispered and looked down at her feet, slowly kicking them and moving around a small nail.  They were bare and the ground was cool, but she didn't mind.  All she had really been worried about was getting a sliver.  Shaking her head slightly to clear her mind of thoughts of a sliver in her skin, she looked up and watched him as he continued to stare blankly at the tree.  

          "I don't want him to go through that, again," he mumbled as he stared out the window.  It had began to rain, again, and Haven felt a gloomy mood pass over her for a moment.  She ran a hand through her hair and groaned. 

          "Can we talk about something else, Darin?"  She whispered, knowing how he felt, "I just . . .  You're going to be really upset if we keep talking about Ryan in pain and I don't like seeing you that way.  I don't like seeing people I care about in a mood like that . . . " 

          "You care about me?"  He murmured, turning to her. 

          Without saying anything, she changed into a pair of jeans as he turned back toward the window.  Then, she tugged on some socks and her Vans before going over to him.  He was still staring at the tree, but that didn't deter him from responding to her silent words. 

          "What, Haven?"  He asked, catching her off guard. 

          "I'm going for a walk; you can come if you want to . . . "  She whispered before quickly running down the steps of her bedroom and sliding down the railing to the first floor before making her way out the front door.  Before long, she felt the tears rush down her face that she tried so hard to contain, but could no longer hold in. 

          Everything seemed to be crumbling down around her.  Her body ached and her head pounded.  She could feel the depression coming back and the pain of losing everything around her crushing her heart.

          She had nothing left. 

          Haven came to an abrupt stop from her running and collapsed in an alley way she'd managed to find her way into.  She cried her heart out, laying on the rough gravel and letting it dig into her skin.  Eventually, her silent sniffles became cries and her cries became screams.  She hated her life and she just wanted it to end. 

          She laid in the same spot for hours.  It grew dark and cold, but she curled up in a ball and held her knees to her chest.  Few people passed her, only two making remarks about her current position.  They all probably thought she was just an addict who was having a tough day; it wasn't like she didn't know how addiction was.  She'd done that before.