Keep Our Secrets

25

"She's not talking to anyone." Josh sighs, flopping down on the couch.

"Just give her some time, dear. She's upset." Mom sits next to him, wrapping Josh in her arms.

"I'm going to call CPS and see if they will let her stay with us." Dad sits next to Sam.

"Permanently?" Sam asks.

"Well at least until she's old enough to decide for her own." Dad answers.

"What if she stayed in Ronnie's room?" Josh asks, turning to mom. "Ronnie's not gonna be back until the end of summer, could she stay in there?"

"That's a wonderful idea Josh." Mom smiles at him.

They talk and vent about the whole situation, talking about what they want to do to help, and figuring out living situations. While they talked, I snuck away to the kitchen. Bailey loves tea. She always makes it when she's upset. It's the least I could do for her right now.

"Is that for her?" Sam asks. I look up, and see him softly smiling.

"Yeah." I answer.

"She hasn't said anything to Mom, Dad or Josh." He frowns. "How do you know if she will talk to you?"

"I don't." I pour the hot water into the mug, making her a cup of tea, just they way she likes it. "If she doesn't want to talk, she doesn't have to. She shouldn't have to. I'm just going to be there if she does, and if she doesn't, then I'm still going to be there." Sam softly chuckles. "What?"

"Nothing." He smiles. "Your just really good at this boyfriend thing." He smirks.

"I'm not her boyfriend." I roll my eyes, taking the warm mug down to my room. I knock on the door quietly, waiting for her to answer. But there isn't one. I open my door, and see her sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed, her knees tucked to her chest. Closing the door, I can't help but feel my heart break. She doesn't deserve to be in this whole mess. I sit down next to her.

"I brought you some tea." I hold the mug for her to take, but she doesn't move. I set it on my desk. "I'm here if you want to talk." I look down at her, but she doesn't move. "Or to hold you." She still doesn't move. I sigh, leaning over, I grab one of my blankets and carefully wrap it around her. As I tuck the blanket into place, I see red on her jeans. I look back up at her hands, seeing they are covered in blood. "At least let me look at your hands." I whisper. I sit there for a moment, waiting for her to move or say something. And she does. Still tucked away, she doesn't bring her head up, but instead just hold her hands out.

Her palms are all bloody. Most of it dried, but I can see little marks where her finger nails dug into her skin. I pull out the first aid kit under my bed, and shift to sit in front of her. She doesn't move when I wipe her hands with the alcohol wipes. Nothing. Doesn't flinch, nothing. Was it always like this? Her cleaning and mending her own wounds, waiting until Josh of mom picked her up. God. I feel like a major douche bag. All the times I could of helped, i instead stayed at home, acting too cool to help her. But that is all gone now.

I just want to help her. Make her feel at home again. She makes me feel at home when she sings, maybe I can do that for her.

"She's a woman in your dreams, one that makes you fall in love," I softly sing. "Though her face is never seen," I start to wrap her hands. As I do, I see her green eyes start to peek at me. "She is what this love is of," I smile, seeing her pick her head up a little more.

"Better?" I ask. She slowly nods. "Good." I gently grab her hands and kiss the back of them. "I know you were angry. You have every right to be. But please. Please promise me, you won't hurt yourself. Even if it's something like this." I squeeze her hands. "It kills me to see you hurting. Especially when you hurt yourself." Her eyes start to water. She slowly picks her head up all the way.