ILLEGAL

Chapter 17

Okay, thanks so much for 450 reads! And also, I was reading over my last chapter, and I realized that it was like the Titanic movie, what with the guy named Jack and the "I let go". That was not on purpose. And sorry about the cliffhanger :D Enjoy chapt. 17!!

I was seeing the world in slow motion. In books, usually that's how they describe things whenever they are about to die, and they know it. But I was. As I released my screaming fingers from the ledge, I saw another hand dart down and grab my wrist.

"What are you doing?" A familiar voice said. I looked up into Jack's plain expression.

I tried to speak, but words didn't come out. "Oh, come on."He heaved me up onto the roof. Once my feet were safely on the ground, he began to question me."Cole, what happened?" He asked.

I felt dizzy, and I had my arms hooked around his neck for balance. "The Fly,"I stuttered, my eyes not able to settle in one place. The pain in my shoulder was excruciating, and the adrenaline of choosing to die and coming so close to actually giving up was still running through my veins and giving me a weak feeling in my limbs.

"He jumped off."I continued.

"He jumped off?"Jack asked, concerned."Cole, you're not making any sense. He wouldn't have survived that."

"Hang-glider."I clarified, weakly making a motion with my arm.

Then the thought of the injured woman came back to me. Jack was supposed to be with her, keeping her stable."The woman,"I gasped."Is she okay?"

Jack was now basically holding me upright, his hands tight on my waist. I still had my arms around his neck, the only thing keeping me from falling. I leaned forward, into Jack. He smelled like confusing combinations, the suit of fresh linen and cologne of what seemed to be sandalwood.

He worriedly watched down over me and held me still."When I left to go find you, professionals were loading her into an ambulance," The edges of my vision began to blur and I rocked back."The question is, are you okay?"

I began to breathe rapidly, my movements shaky and uncontrolled. I looked up at Jack, looked into his stunning blue eyes, and collapsed.
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I was dreaming, I knew that for sure. But the nightmares were so real. The haunting memories that were my constant nightmares.

I was much younger, probably seven, and I was playing with Barbies. There was loud yelling behind me, no doubt my mom and stepdad having one of their famous arguments. I sat quietly and tried to distract myself with the dolls.

I listened to what they were yelling about without turning my head to arouse suspicion.

"You can't keep doing this to me anymore!"My mom yelled.

"I'm not doing anything wrong!"My stepdad yelled back, but his speech was thick and slow. It didn't sound right.

"Anything wrong?"My mom seethed."Nearly everyday you come home so drunk you can barely walk! Your pay goes lower and lower because of that, and you're a terrible role model for Cole! You're not providing for this family I tried so hard to build up-"

I squeezed my eyes shut when I heard the sickeningly familiar sound of flesh on flesh. The punch made my mom fall backwards and lean against the wall for balance. Knowing what was coming, I leaned forward into the wall as to try and blend into the shadows, hoping my stepdad wouldn't notice me. Luckily, he didn't, he just staggered off into the bedroom and past me.

Once I was sure he wouldn't come back out, I threw down my dolls and raced over to go help my mom. I pressed a ice pack onto her head where the bruise was starting to form. That's all he ever did, give Mom and I bruises, nothing more, but that could still hurt like hell.

Nearly every day he would come home from work drunk, and with that came uncontrolled anger that took effect on us. I was lucky when I didn't have black and blue spots down my arms and back. Mom and I were scared to dial the police for domestic and child abuse, afraid of what he'd do to us if he found out. Mom had just wanted everything to be normal, for me to have as happy of a childhood that I could, but she married the wrong man to make me fulfill that dream.

They had been happy, he was an 'okay ' man before, but then we ran into finance issues. The way he thought to fix it was to drown his sorrows in alcohol. One day, after years of a living hell, he had gotten so intoxicated that he was driving home, and he crashed into a thick tree on the side of the road. It toppled over on the car, crushing the drivers spot. He died instantly.

But with no one to work, my mom and I struggled to pay the bills and get enough money for food. And since I never had makeup like all the other girls or the newest cellphone, I was constantly teased and even bullied. Hence forth came my attitude of not caring what others thought of me. Once, I even punched the school's main bitch in the nose. I got in huge trouble, but it was totally worth it.

And as all the girls in school sat around calling their boyfriends, no one seemed to care about me. It seemed every man in my life was evil. So, I self-taught myself how to do complex gymnastics and martial arts.

After he was gone, I have to say my mom and I became happier. With no one dragging us down, without having to support one another with injuries, with no fear to worry about coming home, our lives were much calmer. Our only worry was bringing in enough money to sustain our everyday needs, but fortunately my mom got a job as a waitress. Which meant some of my meals were late, but I got some pretty delicious food.

But for years afterwards, these dreams, these nightmares, of being beaten by my late stepfather would crawl into my sleep and terrify me. My one weakness.
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I flickered in and out of consciousness. I heard conversations, and I opened my eyes once. There seemed to be quite a commotion going on. I kept my eyes closed for a bit so I could listen to their conversation while looking as if I was still sleeping.

"Why has she been sleeping so long? All that happened was that she got shot in the shoulder."Someone asked. Jack.

I heard someone set something down, presumably the doctor setting down a clipboard."She went through a traumatic experience,"The doctor answered."Plus, I don't think she has been getting good sleep for quite a while."

It was true. Because of the dreams I would get, I stopped sleeping. The human body of course needs some rest, so I'd take little naps for an hour or two, a non-dreamable amount of time. I would use my extra time to train, which is another reason why I am one of the best spies of my time.

There was warmth in my hand I realized. I opened my eyes for a split second, just to get a view of things. Jack was sitting on a stool at the side of my hospital cot, and he was...was he holding my hand?

"Speaking of rest,"The doctor continued. I heard him open the door."I suggest you leave and go take some. It's been twenty-six hours, and you've been here the whole time-"

Holy shit, Jack's been with me for twenty-six hours?

"No,"Jack interrupted."I am not leaving her." His voice was firm, certain. Why would he do this? Stay with me for more than a day, and then still not leave? I felt his gaze on me.

The doctor sighed."Alright,"I heard him take off his stethoscope or something and set it down on his desk."I'll be back in three hours. If you feel the need to leave at any time-"

"I won't."

"Then you may do so."He ended sort of frustrated, and then I heard footsteps trail off down the hallway.

The room was silent. A strand of hair fell down on my cheek. Jack brushed it away ever so lightly, his fingertips barely touching my face. He tucked it behind my ear, and my heart skipped a beat.

After that, my eyelid seemed to get really heavy. My head lolled to the side a bit as sleep pulled me back under.