Yesterday

Chapter 28

CHARLOTTE'S POV

I could tell that this whole "healing" thing was going to be a painfully slow process for me.

The morning after my father's funeral, I found myself feeling more restless and exhausted than I had the night before when I fell asleep. Probably because I hadn't gotten any. It was the strangest thing - my eyes desperately wanted to shut and my mind was in a panic as it willed itself to drift off to sleep and escape reality, but for some reason it was impossible. I looked over at the clock.

6:00 A.M. Still pretty early, but I knew that trying to fall asleep now would be useless. Sighing, I got out of bed and made my way out into the living room. As I entered, I heard a quiet snore. I looked over at the massive pile of blankets and pillows on the couch and the one arm sticking out, belonging to the man buried underneath them. A quiet chuckle escaped my lips as I walked past him into the kitchen.

I had figured I would make breakfast, but I stood in front of the fridge in thought. What should I make? Was I even hungry? I decided to make Paul his favorite breakfast; waffles. Hopefully he would wake up soon enough to be able to eat them while they're still hot.

I rushed confidently around the kitchen as I made my own batter, and pressed them with the little waffle-iron that was in the cupboard. Hot and fresh, I put the plate of waffles onto the counter, but Paul was still asleep. I checked the clock again. 7:30. I sighed. At least he had tossed and turned a bit, so that the blankets got pushed down and I could actually see his face. His cheeks were flushed pink from the warmth of the blankets and he had sheet marks going down the left side of his face. His eyes were just barely closed and his mouth hung slightly open, his hair flying up in all directions. He was so beautiful.

I felt bad for him. I could tell how hard he was trying to be there for me, and how badly he wanted me to open up for him. My brow furrowed in frustration at the thought. Why didn't he understand that all I'm going to do is hurt him? How could he even want that in the first place, couldn't he see how much of a disaster I was? I really found myself falling for Paul, I think I may even love him, but I can't let him in. No matter how much it hurts. I was only trying to protect him.

You don't wanna hurt him, Charlotte. First it was Elizabeth, and then Dad. Haven't you done enough already?

I fought back angry tears as I sat down on the couch opposite of Paul, racking my brain for a way to get the pain of it all to go away. I looked over lovingly at Paul as I got up and crouched down beside him.

"I can't let myself do this with you when you're awake, but I certainly can do it when you're asleep," I cooed in a soft voice, leaning over and giving him a deep kiss on the cheek. "I love you Paul," I whispered in his ear as I felt a tear run down my face. I promised myself then that I would never let Paul know what I really thought of him. I wanted him to have a happy life, and with me it would be impossible. It was for his sake, and I would be protecting him, right?

Leaving him a note on the counter, I slipped my coat on and snuck out the door, deciding I would go wherever my feet ended up taking me.

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My feet ended up leading me to a bar. I had to admit, my feet and my brain seemed to agree quite often. Slightly ashamed of the fact that I was at a bar at nine in the morning, I pushed through the doors and took a seat at the bar, ordering myself a small drink. As I looked around the bar I noticed that everyone inside shared similar features; hungover, middle-aged and miserable looking. These must be all the people who drank so much last night they slept here, I thought to myself. I began to slowly sip my drink with a discreet grin on my face. I may have been utterly pathetic and grief-stricken, but at least I was none of these people.

About two drinks later I began to feel the alcohol kicking in. 

"So then I get the call that he dies. Boom. Just like that. It was so unexpected, ya know?" I found myself pouring out my life story to the poor bartender who obviously felt obliged to listen. He absentmindedly nodded his head. I frowned. Why wasn't he listening to me? I cleared my throat. "Excuse me sir, did you hear anything I just said?" His expression remained blank as he stared across the room, completely tuned out. I rose up from the bar stool and slammed my empty glass onto the counter, glass shattering. I felt my expression go from angry to disbelief. Had I really just done that? I'm never violent like that. Everyone looked up in shock as well, including the bartender. 

Well, that got his attention. 

He jumped up and began to make his way around the counter just as two other employees walked up to me. "Excuse me ma'am, we're going to have to ask you to leave. Now." His voice was stern and cold, and his hard eyes were boring into my green and excited ones. "Fine," I grumbled, taking up my jacket and storming outside. I instantly squinted my eyes as I walked into the bright sun, now fully overhead. It must have nearly been noon. Feeling too drunk to make the walk back home and not having enough leftover money to take a taxi, I sat down in the alley next to the bar. Sitting there with my arms angrily crossed and an annoyed expression on my face, I felt like a toddler that had been put in a time out.

"Why, 'ello there little lady."

I looked up into the face of an older, very haggard looking man. I recognized him from the bar. "I couldn't help but seein' ya storm outta there, are ye okay?"

"I'm fine," I snapped. I wasn't in the mood. He knelt down next to me, a little too close for my liking. I could smell the alcohol on his breath. I scooted away from him.

"Do ye need help gettin' home? Or ye can come to my house, if ye like," he nearly whispered. It made me shiver. 

"No thanks."

He was persistent. "Aw come on, a pretty little girl like you shouldn't be out 'ere all alone.." He brushed my cheek with his hand, and I instinctively whipped my hand around and slapped him.

"Don't you dare touch me," I growled. His expression went from soft to completely enraged. 

That probably wasn't your best idea, Charlotte.

He grabbed my face with both of his hands, his grip being impossible to escape. "How dare ye lay your hands on me, when all I was tryin' to do was be nice," he spat. "I try to do a good thing, 'nd this is what I get! Ye should be grateful!" Against the force of me pulling away, he dragged my face up to his and pressed his lips against mine. I thought I was going to be sick. I twisted my head back and forth violently until he finally pulled away, and the second he did I spit right in his face.

He let go of my face, a look of utter shock on his face. For a moment, I had thought I won. Until he looked back up at me.

If looks could kill... 

Before I even had a chance to think, he swung his arm around and caught me right in the temple. I cried out in pain, clutching my head. "You bastard!!" I screamed as I sank to my knees, but he looked very pleased with himself. My vision became even more blurred and I was seeing black spots. The pain was overwhelmingly unbearable. The last thing I remembered seeing before I knocked out was that terrible man as he began to come closer to me. "Ye shouldn't of done that, miss. Now I'm really gonna show ye how nice I can be.." he muttered.

After that, all I saw was darkness.