Reserved ~ Chris Schistad (SLOWLY UPDATING)

Chapter 3 (episode 3)

Chris's POV:

He hits me in the gut with brut force. I stumble back, fall to the floor and wrap my arms around my stomach, desperately gasping for air.

"You think you can just leave whenever you want?" He kicks me in the back.

"ANSWER ME!" He bellows and punches me for the second time in my face, causing blood to trickle down my cheek. I've never understood my father, if you can even call him that. He is the definition of abusive alcoholic. I've never been able to pin point when he became like this, but it's what I always remember of him. My mom won't leave him which is something I can never wrap my head around. It makes you wonder who they were before this mess of a marriage. If they were blissfully in love with one another or felt they were together long enough and decided to wed out of obligation.

All I know is I was used to the pain he would ensue on me physically and mentally, but this time the hitting and kicking were not ceasing. I groan and slowly move my eyes to stare at his face in the dark room. His face holds a jaded expression as if he is growing bored of the same song and dance, or he is simply feeling the effects of his overconsumption of alcohol. Once he quits the incessant motions, he collapses on the raggedy couch behind him.

I remain there for hours, until I am certain he is in an alcohol-induced sleep and will not wake up. I muster up all my strength to push myself off the floor and on my feet, but I am unable to maintain balance as I plop back on the floor. I stay in place for a few moments to stop my head from spinning before I finally stand up. I check the couch to confirm his whereabouts, and I glare at him in disgust. I limp to the bathroom as quiet as possible to clean up my wounds.

Next Morning:

My alarm goes off for a solid ten minutes. My body was aching from my father's beating last night, and the last thing I wanted to do was get out of bed and go to school. Since dealing with anyone hassling me about the cuts and bruises on my face is not what I need to hear today, I know skipping school is what the day holds for me.

I groan and hiss in pain as I lift my chest up and shift my legs to hang off the edge of the bed. As soon as I stand up, my knees buckle and I catch myself on the edge of the bed. I clench my jaw and sigh at the shooting pain that is running through my legs. Definitely not going to school. I push myself up with the aid of my bed and plop on the soft cushion, allowing myself to fall back into a state of peace.

William's POV:

I reposition myself to lay on my side and open my eyes. I blink rapidly at the sight in front of me, wondering if I'm dreaming.

"Noora?" My voice cracks. After last night, when she insisted that she wanted nothing to do with me, we ended up talking through the night. We didn't come to a decision, but it was a step forward.

"Hm," She stirs and scoots closer to me, pulling the comforter as close to her face as possible.

"Are you sleeping?" She looks unguarded in this state. There are no walls surrounding her; just a beautiful girl full of raw emotion, and I feel fortunate to wake up next to her.

"No," She mumbles.

"Who is in the bed with you right now?" I can't hide myself from the fact that she doesn't think I am here. I know she will be beside herself when she realizes. All I can do is soak in this moment with her before her walls build themselves back up.