The Boy From 1917 {h.s. au}

Chapter 27

**WARNING: some things in this chapter can be triggering**
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I woke up in a bright white room. I stood up from the floor and looked around, seeing nothing but white.

As I kept walking through the light, I came across a hallway of doors. I frowned in confusion and pulled open the first door, cautiously stepping inside.

My eyes widened as I saw four year old me with a man I didn't recognize.

We were in my parents' bedroom from our old house in Florida. I glanced around the room curiously.

"Rose!"

"Daddy...I'm scared." Little me gasped as the police kept banging hard on the door.

"Sweetheart, it's ok. It's going to be ok. They're here for me." The man kneeled next to little Rose, making her eyes water.

"No...no! I won't let them!" She cried out, clinging to his arm as best as she could.

"Rose, you're going to be ok. In a few years, you won't even remember me. You'll have a different daddy."

She shook her head at the ground. "No..."

"I'm a bad guy, Rose. Like in those cartoons you watch. I'm the bad guy." He whispered to little Rose, making her cup his face.

"My daddy is not a bad guy. Mommy's boyfriend is the bad guy."

I frowned at her words. Who is this man? Who's my mom's boyfriend?

"I'm so sorry, baby. But you're going to be ok, you know why? Because you're loved. You're so loved, Rose."

Little Rose sniffed quietly, looking up at the man. "But what happens when nobody loves me?"

He seemed shocked at her words, his eyes widened as he sat up straight.

Just then, the door broke down as policemen ran into the room. Three pinned the man to the floor and two grabbed little Rose, pulling her away from him.

"No!" She screamed and kicked, trying to get back to the man.

The man smiled sadly as the police dragged him out of the house, making little Rose sob loudly.

Then the room went white and I was out in the hallway again. I stared at the wall where the door was, not even blinking.

I couldn't think. I couldn't process what had just happened. I blinked slowly at the ground as I walked to the next door, opening it a crack.

I watched as fourteen year old me walked into the kitchen of my old house with a cake.

No...I remember this day. I remember it...

"Happy birthday dad!" She smiled widely at the man I recognized to be my father.

"What the h*ll is that?" He asked in disgust as he looked down at the cake I had made.

"A cake. I made it for you! I couldn't afford a present, so-"

"You know what I want?" He asked lowly as he leaned over to me. "You know what I want for my birthday?"

The other me just shook her head with wide eyes.

"I want to come home from work early. And you know what I want to find? I want to find you. Dead on the floor covered in your own blood. That's what I want."