The Boy Next Door (Editing and Rewriting)

Chapter 20

Three days, that's how much longer I had to stay in the hospital, only three days which doesn't seem all too bad. The only thing that I hated about staying there three more days was that I had already had enough of the hospital by about day 3 and it was now day 6, so three more days was more than I wanted to subject myself to. But nevertheless I managed to do it, and after those three days my dad had signed my release papers, gotten all of the instructions from the doctor about what I am supposed to do now. Most of which is eating and sleeping, and definitely no strenuous exercise. Now I am on my way home, sitting shotgun in my dad's car. 

Have you ever looked at someone and immediately known that they had something to ask you, but had no idea how to ask you? Well, I have, in fact I'm doing it right now. As I look at my dad on the brief ride home from the hospital I can tell he wants to ask me something, probably about all of the new information I gave him in my time at the hospital. The silence it too much for me to handle right now, in my fragile state as I wait to hear the thoughts that my dad obviously wants to share with me, so I decide to try and break it.

"Dad, I know you want to say something or ask me something, and I'm pretty sure that it's about what I told you, the doctors and the police at the hospital," I say all in one breath, before stopping and taking in a large breath of air, "but before you do, let me say something," I wait until I get an answer from him before I continue, he turns to look at me briefly and nods before turning his eyes back to the road, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to find out like that, I'm sorry that I didn't tell you earlier, I was going to I swear, I just didn't know how to tell you, it's not really something that you can just blurt out at the dinner table, you know? I can't just sit down to eat dinner and say, 'hey dad, my ex-boyfriend decided that whenever he got angry at me, or whenever I said something wrong he would hit me, and this one time he cut me, all over my stomach just for the fun of it, oh by the way great spaghetti!' It doesn't really fit into that kind of discussion, which you obviously know, but yeah I'm really sorry Dad, truly." After which I just breath, listening to the silence that seems to be the only answer to the entire speech I just gave him. 

"Allison," my dad starts off quietly, almost as if he's saying it to himself and not to me, but since it's completely silent in the car, because we are home now and the car engine is no longer making any noise, I can hear him just fine, "I know how hard it must have been for you to tell me that, not even just me, the doctors and the police officers as well, you are a brave little girl and I am so proud to call you mine," at this point he has taken the keys out of the engine and is now looking me right in the eyes, "I can't even imagine what you have been going through since all of that happened, and for you do go through it alone is truly incredible. But from now on I want you to know that you can come and talk to me about anything, don't be afraid to tell me about anything and everything, understand?"

"Yeah, I understand, thanks Dad. I love you." I say as a lone tear trails it way down my cheek and drops onto my lap.

"I love you too my little girl, now give your Dad a hug," he says as he leans over the center console and envelops me in his arms, holding me tightly, in turn I wrap my own arms around him and squeeze back. After he lets me go again he says, "Come on, you must be absolutely knackered, time for bed and this time in your own bed, why don't you run upstairs and hop into your bed while I fix you up a small snack, can't have you falling asleep without any food in your system."

"Alright, thanks Dad" I say as I take off my seatbelt and open the car door, before doing what he told me to, go to bed.

As I walk up the stairs I hold onto the rail and try my best to walk up the stairs and fight through the pain that washes over me with each step I take. By the time I make it up the stairs there are black spots swirling in the corners of my vision and I feel like I'm about to pass out, I guess it's a good thing that my room is the closest one to the stairs, five more steps and I will be inside my room, and then about ten more steps and I will be in my bed. I can do that. I can make it.

And I do.

And then I collapse.

Straight onto the bed. At least there's that much, I didn't even know that I can be this tired, well this tired again, it was worse the first time. Not that I'm surprised by that, my injuries were much worse the first time. I'm glad that my dad was away for a month at the time. 

After a few minutes my dad walks into my room holding a plate in his hands, which is presumably my snack that he went to make for me, and is walking over towards my bed, which I have now managed to get into properly and tuck myself under the covers, ready to sleep. My dad places the food down on my bedside table, leans over and kisses my forehead before turning around and leaving my room, shutting my door behind him.

With the curtains still shut from the last time I actually slept in my own bed and the covers pulled up to my chin, and the door shut, and the silence in the room, and the fact that I am so tired, I fall off into a dreamless sleep, without eating the food my dad made me, I hope he won't be upset that I didn't eat.