*Title In Construction/Progress*

Chapter 7--John--The Start of a Plan

I turned around to look at her. Her eyes were wide and her pale cheeks are now flushed.

"You have to pretend that I'm your sister," she commands.

"Why?" I ask.

"I...I just can't go home," she stutters.

"Why?" I repeat. My father gives me a confused look.

"If I go home, Paul will come after me. I just...I just know it. That's just who he is. Once I go home after the hospital, I'll be a sitting duck. He'll swoop in when I least expect it, and finish the job," her eyes are wide with fright, her shoulders quake just the slightest bit.

"You mean, finish the job, like, kill you?" I ask, my head spinning at the thought of this poor girl being murdered. Well, my head spins at the thought of anyone being murdered, really.

She nods.

"He won't want to be hauled off to jail or get in trouble for the assault, so he'll kill me and cover his tracks," she explains dejectedly.

Paul Johnson. Lowest of the low. Biggest slime ball you'll ever meet. He's the snake in my Garden of Eden. I struggle to love him as God wants me to. It's not surprising that he would do something like this. From the life choices he has already made, it seems his future will be a life as a raging alcoholic. Not that I can judge, though.

But I've never seen this girl before, not with Paul or anyone else, which is strange, considering the town isn't all that big.

"Your family will protect you," Dad reasons.

"It's just my mom, my little sister, and I. My mom works shifts at the diner, 7am to 8pm, cooking, cleaning, and bussing tables. My sister is in three different clubs and doesn't come home until dinner time each weeknight. She babysits on the weekends. I'm alone most of the time, except when I'm with Paul. We hang out almost everyday so he knows when I'm home alone. Again, I'm an easy target," she says, her voice poisoned with despair.

"Call the police. They'll lock 'im up real good."

"The police can't be everywhere at all times," she murmurs. "Besides, in this town, they usually get there too late."

"We can't call an ambulance if you want us to pretend that you are our family," Pa states.

"Wha, why?" Her eyebrows furrow, like two kissing caterpillars.

"They'll need paperwork and medical records and junk," he waves his hand around in the air. "They'll see right through our lies."

"Then what am I going to do?" Tears are streaming down her face again.

"You have two choices," I jump in. She looks at me. "Hospital, then home, or you stay here until your healthy and able to fend for yourself if Paul comes to hurt you?"

"Now, John, we can't go around harboring people," my dad cancels my offer.

"We aren't harboring people. We're are just letting one person stay here for a while."

"Don't get smart with me," he growls.

"Please Pa," I beg for this girl's sake.

"They'll know she's missing soon enough. The police will search these woods. They'll find her here and I'll be thrown in jail. I can't risk this," my dad states finally.

All is silent for a moment except for the girl's chopped breaths.

"If the police start looking for her in the woods, we can keep her in the shed. They won't find her here, they'll leave, and then we can bring her back into the house."

"John, don't be an idiot!" My father snaps, exasperated. He is usually kindhearted but it's late and he is even more stressed. "It's bad enough if they find her in here cooped up on the couch. The situation will be a thousand times worse if they find her locked in a shed. Think a little!"

The air goes silent again.

After a moment, the girl breaks the silence and speaks, "If the cops come, I will go far from the house in the woods. They'll find me there. While I stay here, I'll come up with some story to explain the time in between the...um, attack and when they find me."

I look at my father. He wipes his eyes with his hands and sighs multiple times.

"Fine. Just make sure I don't end up in the slammer, and we're good."

"Thank you, Pa, I appreciate it. We both do," I reply. I turn to the girl. "You're staying?"

She thinks for a moment and her eyes connect solidly with mine. Her brown eyes are cold and solid with fear, like frozen fudge. It is suddenly my goal to melt those eyes with warmth and love from Jesus and myself, to make that frozen bark turn into hot fudge sauce.

"I'm staying here."

"Well, what do I get for feeding another mouth?" My father asks quiet rudely.

"I don't know but I'll pay you back somehow," she promises.