aliasjunkie4ever
Cadet
Wow. It's been a super long time. I apologize. School has got me so wrapped up I can't even keep track of myself. :blink:
If anyone is still reading this, I have the next chapter. You may want to go back and read the last couple, just to remind you of what's happened. Re-Reading the October 25 diary entry may help you understand the end of this chapter...^_^
There isn't much left after this. Only a few more chapters-unless my mind goes crazy on me.
No telling when I will find time to finish it, but I hope this tides you over for the little while (that is...if anyone is still interested in this ).
Enjoy
---
I open my eyes slowly. I’m scared of what I might see. Looking to my left, I see Aaron’s head against the steering wheel that now had an airbag protruding from it. He’s looking the other way, but he isn’t moving.
“Aaron?” I say nervously. I begin to panic when he doesn’t respond. Putting my arm on his shoulder and shaking him, I say his name repeatedly. “Aaron? Aaron, say something! Aaron, please? Aaron!”
He suddenly sits up, bumping his head on an object and startling me. He looks around himself and sees the mess. I can feel the question in his eyes.
“I guess it was pretty bad...I’m so glad you’re okay.”
He seems to be oblivious to my enthusiasm of his life. Instead he notices what I failed to apprehend.
“Emma, your face. It’s covered in blood,” he says to me while leaning toward me. Both of us are pinned down by the airbags and seatbelts. Glass is surrounding us.
“I’m fine,” I say, wiping blood from my cheek.
Aaron and I are left looking at each other for what feels like half an hour. I am admiring how soft and innocent he looks when he gets a horrified expression on his face.
I can’t help but laugh. “What is it?” I screamed suddenly as my door flies open. Turning my body around as much as it will go, I am face to face with my father.
“Don’t touch her!” Aaron screams.
Ignoring him, my father grabs my wrists and tells me to get out. As I search for the buckle, Aaron looks for a way to help me. After several minutes, Patrick reaches over me and unclips my seatbelt. He rips me out of the car as Aaron is still struggling to get free. As my father closes the door, I see that Aaron is petrified. My father doesn’t notice, though, as Aaron gets out of the car.
My father’s grip around me grows tighter as he pulls me toward his car. He opens the door and is about to force me in when Aaron speaks up.
“Let her go.”
Patrick turns around quickly, his hold on me loosening slightly. I begin thinking of ways to get away, but I can’t think fast enough. He pulls a gun out of his coat, and presses it hard against my neck.
Aaron immediately rushes to us, but stops when I wince in pain.
“Don’t come another step closer, son, unless you want to lose her.”
In one instant, a pained expression appears on Aaron’s face. A shot is fired, and I crumble to the ground.
~
October 27, 2003
He saved my life. Aaron is my saving grace.
Dad had a gun pointed at me. Somehow, I don’t know how he did it, Aaron punched him and got the gun. He shot him. Aaron shot Patrick.
I didn’t know what had happened at first. I just heard the shot, and I was afraid to look. My body collapsed and I was shuttering helplessly. That’s when he put his arms around me and assured me we would be okay.
I looked up into his gorgeous eyes, and asked him if he was dead. He shook his head and told me he only shot his leg. It hadn’t killed it, but it had saved my life.
Aaron called the police, and when they got there, they told us to come down to the station to answer questions. I wasn’t expecting to be informed of my father’s whereabouts these last few years.
“Patrick Davis has been on the FBI’s most wanted list for the past year and a half,” one of the cops said calmly.
I scooted closer to Aaron as I waited for the rest of the hurtful news. The man went on to explain that he had been molesting children, boys and girls, of all ages.
“What put him on the hit list?” I asked.
“That’s classified information,” he replied shortly.
Aaron managed to squeeze out of him that Patrick had attempted to kidnap the president’s fourteen year old son, hadn’t succeeded, but got away.
I was in shock, and could barely tell the police what had happened. I tried to recount the last few hours, but all that came to mind what the picture of my father-the man who had married my mother, who produced my little brother and me-molesting children, molesting the president’s child. Apparently they understood my confusion, because after sitting silent for half and hour, they told me we could go home. There would be time for questions later.
Now we are back at the hospital, and my mother is a mess. I didn’t want to tell her, but we couldn’t keep it from her. Our cuts and bruises posed many questions and she was sobbing in the floor within minutes of the story.
I found myself wrapped around her. I realized once again, that we are in this together. Maybe that’s why all of these damn things are going on in our lives...to grow us closer together. Perhaps, it’s a test; a test of faith, a test of hope and a test of love.
~
I’m sitting by his bed. He’s breathing quietly, and his heart beat is slow. Mom had to get away for a while, so Aaron drove her to the hotel. He hasn’t come back yet.
I gaze out the window and my mind wanders to the memories I’ve shared with Ryan. There aren’t too many worth remembering but one sticks out in my mind. I look back at him and take his hand in mine.
“Ryan, buddy. Can you hear me?” He turns his head slightly toward me. He blinks, and I continue. “Do you remember that day we stayed home from school? We had both had bad days, so in the morning, instead of walking to the bus stop, we went to the park. When we knew Mom had left for work, we went back home.” I laugh quietly. “We ate all the junk food we wanted to, we played video games for hours...we even roller bladed inside.” I stop and think for moment. “How old were you then, Ry? I think you were 11, and I was 15, because...” I hesitate, then finish silently, “it was before the divorce.”
I unlock my hand from his and wipe a small tear from my cheek. I hear him mumble something, but it isn’t audible. Moving closer to him, I ask, “Hey, it’s Emma. What do you need?”
His eyes open slowly, and it startles me. I had almost forgotten the beautiful hazel color they were. They no longer shine with life, however. They are dull and weary. They are a desperate call for deliverance.
“Emma,” he whispers.
I look around to see if anyone is there before answering him. “Yes?”
“He...” It is hard for him to speak. He runs out of breath quickly. I wait patiently as he gathers more air. “...Loves you.”
Before I can absorb what he says, there is a high pitched beep. I jump and realize it’s his monitors. His eyes are closed again, and the noise takes over the moment.
The doctor and nurses rush in, pushing me out of the way.
“Oh my God. Oh my God. What’s happening?” I say repeatedly.
They ignore my cry, and in a few moments, they have removed Ryan from the room he was once sleeping peacefully in. One nurse stays behind to explain. “It looks like he’s gone into shock, probably from the medication. Dr. Holling will come back to give you information. Your mother is being notified.” She rushes away, leaving me standing in the now silent room.
I look around for someone to hug, someone to hold, but there is no one. I lean my back against the wall and slide down until I hit the floor. Burying my head into my knees, the tears stream down my face. And I wait.
If anyone is still reading this, I have the next chapter. You may want to go back and read the last couple, just to remind you of what's happened. Re-Reading the October 25 diary entry may help you understand the end of this chapter...^_^
There isn't much left after this. Only a few more chapters-unless my mind goes crazy on me.
No telling when I will find time to finish it, but I hope this tides you over for the little while (that is...if anyone is still interested in this ). Enjoy
---
I open my eyes slowly. I’m scared of what I might see. Looking to my left, I see Aaron’s head against the steering wheel that now had an airbag protruding from it. He’s looking the other way, but he isn’t moving.
“Aaron?” I say nervously. I begin to panic when he doesn’t respond. Putting my arm on his shoulder and shaking him, I say his name repeatedly. “Aaron? Aaron, say something! Aaron, please? Aaron!”
He suddenly sits up, bumping his head on an object and startling me. He looks around himself and sees the mess. I can feel the question in his eyes.
“I guess it was pretty bad...I’m so glad you’re okay.”
He seems to be oblivious to my enthusiasm of his life. Instead he notices what I failed to apprehend.
“Emma, your face. It’s covered in blood,” he says to me while leaning toward me. Both of us are pinned down by the airbags and seatbelts. Glass is surrounding us.
“I’m fine,” I say, wiping blood from my cheek.
Aaron and I are left looking at each other for what feels like half an hour. I am admiring how soft and innocent he looks when he gets a horrified expression on his face.
I can’t help but laugh. “What is it?” I screamed suddenly as my door flies open. Turning my body around as much as it will go, I am face to face with my father.
“Don’t touch her!” Aaron screams.
Ignoring him, my father grabs my wrists and tells me to get out. As I search for the buckle, Aaron looks for a way to help me. After several minutes, Patrick reaches over me and unclips my seatbelt. He rips me out of the car as Aaron is still struggling to get free. As my father closes the door, I see that Aaron is petrified. My father doesn’t notice, though, as Aaron gets out of the car.
My father’s grip around me grows tighter as he pulls me toward his car. He opens the door and is about to force me in when Aaron speaks up.
“Let her go.”
Patrick turns around quickly, his hold on me loosening slightly. I begin thinking of ways to get away, but I can’t think fast enough. He pulls a gun out of his coat, and presses it hard against my neck.
Aaron immediately rushes to us, but stops when I wince in pain.
“Don’t come another step closer, son, unless you want to lose her.”
In one instant, a pained expression appears on Aaron’s face. A shot is fired, and I crumble to the ground.
~
October 27, 2003
He saved my life. Aaron is my saving grace.
Dad had a gun pointed at me. Somehow, I don’t know how he did it, Aaron punched him and got the gun. He shot him. Aaron shot Patrick.
I didn’t know what had happened at first. I just heard the shot, and I was afraid to look. My body collapsed and I was shuttering helplessly. That’s when he put his arms around me and assured me we would be okay.
I looked up into his gorgeous eyes, and asked him if he was dead. He shook his head and told me he only shot his leg. It hadn’t killed it, but it had saved my life.
Aaron called the police, and when they got there, they told us to come down to the station to answer questions. I wasn’t expecting to be informed of my father’s whereabouts these last few years.
“Patrick Davis has been on the FBI’s most wanted list for the past year and a half,” one of the cops said calmly.
I scooted closer to Aaron as I waited for the rest of the hurtful news. The man went on to explain that he had been molesting children, boys and girls, of all ages.
“What put him on the hit list?” I asked.
“That’s classified information,” he replied shortly.
Aaron managed to squeeze out of him that Patrick had attempted to kidnap the president’s fourteen year old son, hadn’t succeeded, but got away.
I was in shock, and could barely tell the police what had happened. I tried to recount the last few hours, but all that came to mind what the picture of my father-the man who had married my mother, who produced my little brother and me-molesting children, molesting the president’s child. Apparently they understood my confusion, because after sitting silent for half and hour, they told me we could go home. There would be time for questions later.
Now we are back at the hospital, and my mother is a mess. I didn’t want to tell her, but we couldn’t keep it from her. Our cuts and bruises posed many questions and she was sobbing in the floor within minutes of the story.
I found myself wrapped around her. I realized once again, that we are in this together. Maybe that’s why all of these damn things are going on in our lives...to grow us closer together. Perhaps, it’s a test; a test of faith, a test of hope and a test of love.
~
I’m sitting by his bed. He’s breathing quietly, and his heart beat is slow. Mom had to get away for a while, so Aaron drove her to the hotel. He hasn’t come back yet.
I gaze out the window and my mind wanders to the memories I’ve shared with Ryan. There aren’t too many worth remembering but one sticks out in my mind. I look back at him and take his hand in mine.
“Ryan, buddy. Can you hear me?” He turns his head slightly toward me. He blinks, and I continue. “Do you remember that day we stayed home from school? We had both had bad days, so in the morning, instead of walking to the bus stop, we went to the park. When we knew Mom had left for work, we went back home.” I laugh quietly. “We ate all the junk food we wanted to, we played video games for hours...we even roller bladed inside.” I stop and think for moment. “How old were you then, Ry? I think you were 11, and I was 15, because...” I hesitate, then finish silently, “it was before the divorce.”
I unlock my hand from his and wipe a small tear from my cheek. I hear him mumble something, but it isn’t audible. Moving closer to him, I ask, “Hey, it’s Emma. What do you need?”
His eyes open slowly, and it startles me. I had almost forgotten the beautiful hazel color they were. They no longer shine with life, however. They are dull and weary. They are a desperate call for deliverance.
“Emma,” he whispers.
I look around to see if anyone is there before answering him. “Yes?”
“He...” It is hard for him to speak. He runs out of breath quickly. I wait patiently as he gathers more air. “...Loves you.”
Before I can absorb what he says, there is a high pitched beep. I jump and realize it’s his monitors. His eyes are closed again, and the noise takes over the moment.
The doctor and nurses rush in, pushing me out of the way.
“Oh my God. Oh my God. What’s happening?” I say repeatedly.
They ignore my cry, and in a few moments, they have removed Ryan from the room he was once sleeping peacefully in. One nurse stays behind to explain. “It looks like he’s gone into shock, probably from the medication. Dr. Holling will come back to give you information. Your mother is being notified.” She rushes away, leaving me standing in the now silent room.
I look around for someone to hug, someone to hold, but there is no one. I lean my back against the wall and slide down until I hit the floor. Burying my head into my knees, the tears stream down my face. And I wait.