Detriment

16. and i cried

A/N: Unless indicated that its someone else's POV, the default POV is always Charlie's c:
I didn't know if anyone was confused on why I don't put Charlie's name on top and for Ayden, I do.

I actually did put Charlie's name in the last chapter because that's when I had actually thought about it, but from here on out, I won't be doing it.

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     I had wished to die. I had practically begged Bradley to kill me because the thought of enduring his and Cameron's physical and emotional pain was unbearable. I had begged him to kill me because, after the first month, I had lost hope of being saved.

     I wasn't killed then, though, but now that I am being saved, I'm dying? I don't want to die anymore. I don't. The thought of it isn't peaceful nor welcoming anymore. It's terrifying.

     I'm crying, watching as the flames eat around the perimeter of the basement where Cameron's old stuff was, slowly making it's way around. I was going to die. It had to be inevitable. I... I couldn't come out of this.

     My life didn't flash before my eyes like people said it did when you're about to die. No, instead it had chosen one specific memory to replay in my head repeatedly. A stupid memory. A memory that would be the last one before I died.

     The memory was when Ayden had come into my dressing room and had started to bother me with his stupid M&M reference and his sexualized advanced. It was the last thing I wanted to think about, but I found myself weakly laughing at it. Laughing and crying all at the same time.

     "Aw, Charlie, you're so cruel sometimes. You act tough but I bet under that tough exterior, you a huge softy."

     God, how wrong he was...or maybe right. I could never put up a tough façade, only a protective one. I couldn't let anyone know. At least I thought I couldn't. Maybe I came off as cruel to him because of it. Or maybe he was just joking. Maybe I was just over analyzing words that had been said to my annoyed words. I hadn't wanted to be bothered with him, but now, I would take anything to have him down here.

     Just as I had thought that, the door to the basement had slammed open, a fire extinguisher going off and coating the fire at the doorway with its white substance. My heart slammed against my chest, looking up, despite the pain, to see who it was. It was a moment before I could make out Bradley in my cloudy vision and defeated, I laid back down.

     The sound of footsteps had gotten closer and before I had known what was happening, Bradley was at my legs with wire clippers, cutting away the barbed wire but not dare touching the one in my leg.

     "Bradl-"

     "Shut up...just...just please shut the hell up." He whispered, coughing hard at the smoke that had no doubt made its way into his lungs. Stunned, I stared at him, watching as he sat down next to me with the extinguisher, empty, at his side. For a moment, he just fiddled with the clippers, leaning his back against the now hot wall and I wanted to know what was going through his mind. Why had he come down here in the first place to free me? Why hadn't he left to save himself from the fire?

     "There's a shitload of people that cares about you Charlie. Really, if you could see the front yard right now and the news, you'd know." Then he got really quiet, sliding down so that the smoke wasn't so prominent. He stared at the fire for a minute, watching how close that it had gotten to us. We were both drenched in sweat, the heat practically burning our skin. The concrete floor had seemed to slow it down for a while and I wondered if concrete burned. Would it ever reach us or would we just die from the heat alone?