A teenage bad boy, with a hatred for his family, has to chase a stranger all over town to find and save his little sister who has been kidnapped.
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When Dorian leaves one morning despite his mother's orders, it's just another simple act of rebelli...
Sitting on the stairs of the house, we watch the police. Several scurrying about; searching for paper work, trying to find other officers, collecting evidence. Some stand around; talking to other officers, sharing papers, writing things down. Others do their own thing; searching the ground with torches, watching other officers work, talking on their two-way radios.
A couple officers walk in and out of the house, passing us without a word, carrying objects placed in see-through plastic evidence bags. The rope. Tape. The pieces of the soap dispenser I shattered against the bathroom wall. A white bloodstained rag. Multicoloured markers. And several more items I don't recognise or get a chance to see.
Misty clings to my arm, resting her head against me. She asks me for the hundredth time, "When can we leave?"
Each time, I have to tell her I don't know. An officer told us to stick around for a little longer in case they have anymore questions or need to know anything else. I swear it's been longer than a 'little longer' though.
We're all tired, sitting on the top stair of the house.
Jonah lies on his back with his legs draped down the stairs and his eyes closed, although I'm pretty sure he hasn't fallen asleep yet.
Next to him, sits Wyatt. He rests his in his hands and leans his elbows on his bent knees. I notice him taking long, slow blinks while he stares into the distance ahead of him.
I sit next to him, leaving a gap between us as a pathway for the officers. I stare at everything around me to keep my eyelids from drooping. Leaning back on one arm, the arm that hasn't been claimed by Misty. My aching legs sprawled out, down the stairs.
Axel leans against the railing post, facing the rest of us. He stretches his legs out in the space between Misty and him, resting his head back against the post. His distant stare remains trained on a spot above our heads, the same spot he found when we first sat down. He has the same sleepy blinks as Wyatt.
Misty refuses to sleep even though I've told her she can and I'll make sure she's safe. But no matter what I could do, it's this place that make her feel unsafe. I don't blame her.
It feels strange being this close to someone. I should have realised if I gave Misty my attention all these years, I would have received the affection I've craved for so long. I just had to care about her a little. Instead, I left her to be starved of warmth and love. I allowed her to suffer the way I always have.
I never appreciated her. I don't deserve her now. I don't deserve to have her holding onto me right now as if she'll lose everything if she lets go. She deserve the world. But right now, I'm all she has. So, I won't be selfish or push her feelings aside again. I'll do everything I can to make her happy and safe. Not for me. For her.
With all the time for my mind to wander, I think and worry about what will happen next. Where will Misty and I go? Will we have to go back and live with Mum until I can afford it? I hope not. After everything, the last thing I want to do to Misty is force her back into that house with that woman. I haven't asked her if she wants to go back or not, but after I saw her throw the stuffed rabbit out the window, I'm certain she finally hates her and wants to stay far away from her.
So, if that's the case, I can't go back home. But where will we go? How will we live? What can I do? I've never felt this useless before. I'm not ready for any of this.
I've spent years dreaming about moving out and living alone. I searched for houses and apartments to rent or buy, looked for jobs I could get into that would support me, and figured out how much money I would need to leave. But now, all of my gathered information is useless. All my research and figuring out is wasted and unusable.
I can't move into a space for one person. I'll need more money than I had estimated I would need to leave. I have to think about Misty, and put her education into consideration.
My head begins to pound and throb from the thousands of thoughts and questions whirling around in my head. The exhaustion doesn't help but rather makes my head ache and spin more. Deciding to clear my mind and worry about everything later, I close my eyes and let my head flop back, wishing I could fall back onto a bed.
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