Embraced Scars

Chapter Ten

Annabelle's POV

My eyes fluttered open, annoyed at the beeping. I looked around, wondering where the hell I was. Hospital. The sterile smell and plain walls were a give away. The tubes poking out of my body, heart and heart rate monitor helped.

Noah was sat in the chair next to the bed, tears rolling down his tired looking face. He was smiling, despite the tears, and was clutching my hand like it was a life line. He got up and planted a damp kiss of my hot forehead.

As his face came back into view, it changed. It was no longer Noah looking down at me, but daddy. His face was warped and twisted, like he was looking at me through glass. His cold, muffled laughter echoed around the room.

He was suddenly looming over me, his terrifying face pressed close to mine. I screamed, trying to press my head into the pillow. Then I was falling. Through the bed and into a dark hole. Faces swirled around me with nauseating speed. Daddy's face, mommy's face, Noah's face.

My eyes snapped open. I was blind for a moment, the shockingly bright lights shining right into my face. My eyes cleared after a second and I saw Marcus was leaning over me, a worried expression on his face. I felt something running down my face, so I quickly wiped the tears away. But they kept coming back, my chest tightening.

"It was just a dream, Annabelle." Marcus said. I shook my head and my arms moved of their own accord and wrapped around his neck.

He was still with shock for a moment, then returned the hug. I was suddenly overwhelmed. The sobs that racked my body were different this time. They shook my whole form, ripping through my chest like knives. Cries flew from my mouth, reflecting off the dark walls and hitting me again and again.

"It wasn't just a dream." I hissed, over and over again.

Marcus was rubbing my back, whispering soothing words in my ear. I tried to focus on that, but it was almost impossible. I eventually calmed down, my screams turning to sobs. Marcus held me for another minute, then pulled back so he could look at me. I was shocked by what I saw.

He looked heartbroken. His whole facehad collapsed into a look of pure anguish. He was breathing quickly, his hands shaking. He was just as much of a mess as I was. 

"What's wrong? Please, Annabelle, tell me what's wrong." He begged, pulling me onto his lap. I wrapped my legs around his waist and burried my face in the crook of his neck. 

"I can't." I sobbed, "You'll hate me." I knew he would. He would hate that he's stuck with me, someone with my past. 

"I will never hate you. Never. It's impossible for me to hate you. But I can't help you unless you tell me what's wrong." He whispered into my hair, his thumbs trailing up my sides slowly. I closed my eyes and shook my head. He sighed quietly and pulled away. "Let's get you back to bed."

He scooted over so I could lie back down in the bed and stood up. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Wait," I called suddenly, "Stay." I blinked, shocked that I'd asked that. But as soon as the wordswere out of my mouth, I knew why I'd said it. I needed him now, to hold me and keep me safe. 

"Okay." He whispered, sliding into the other side of the bed, flicking the lights back off. I moved over so I was pressed up against him. He put his arm over my shoulders, so my head was resting on his bulging bisep. He smelt rich and earthy, like damp bark or wet leaves. 

I felt myself drifting off to sleep, and found myself needing to say something. "I'm sorry, Marcus."

"Don't be. I'm sorry for pushing you to tell me when you aren't ready." He replied. "Sleep, we'll talk in the morning."