Paper Thin

• 102: Ice •

Melody

"Melody!" Carson's voice travelled down the hallway behind me as I reached for the coat closet's door handle. "Where are you going?"

I froze. I didn't know the answer to that question. Where could I go?

"Do you know what he–" the word 'said' died in my throat. "And I can't go home because she–" and 'is a murderer' couldn't come out my mouth either. "Everything... everything is falling apart and I don't know what to–I-I don't know how to–" I took a breath so deep it almost made me lightheaded. "Hungry is the last thing I feel right now."

"Melody," Carson said.

"I can't right now," I whispered, taking a step towards the front door.

"Please don't go," Carson said, he walked toward me slowly, his eyes pleading, stripping away at my flight response.

"Cars–" it was hoarse, not even a whisper.

"Just stay. You don't have to eat if you're not hungry. But don't go."

"Okay," I mumbled, staring down at the floor as he stopped in front of me. Carson gently took my face in hand and lifted it to look at him. I tried not to squirm as he searched my face with his brown eyes.

"You didn't sleep at all last night, why don't you lie down in my room?" he offered. His thumb stroked my cheek softly, soothingly. But I wondered if he was seeing the bags under my eyes.

"Okay," I repeated. Carson let go of my face and took my hand, gently leading me up the stairs. When we got to his room, he guided me to his bed, and I sat down on the edge of it.

"Do you want anything? Water? A comfy shirt?" he asked.

I shook my head. "I have a t-shirt under this." I began pulling my hoodie off and could feel my shirt lifting once it was over my head. I threw the sweater down and pulled my shirt down, not missing the horrified look on Carson's face. "What?"

I got off his bed before giving him a chance to respond and stood in front of the mirror had over his dresser, lifting my shirt to where it was before.

"Oh," was all I could manage as I saw the large bruises forming across my waist, creeping towards my ribs. There were even bruises on my arms. Where Diesel grabbed. Where he gripped. I pressed my cold finger against the one above my hip. A rush of air left my lungs, making a strangled sort of noise when I felt the pain of the bruise.

"Melody–"

"I bruise easy. It's okay," I said quickly, unsure as to why I was justifying it. Maybe I just didn't want him to worry. I pulled my shirt down and I went back to Carson's bed. He sighed before walking over to his couch and grabbing the blanket off of it and putting it on the bed next to me.

"In case you get cold," he said. "Just make yourself comfortable."

"Thank you," I said quietly.

"Do you want me to stay?" Carson asked.

"No, it's okay. Go eat, spend time with your family," I said, a small reassuring smile on my lips. I hoped that it didn't look as forced as it felt.

"Okay, I'll come check on you in a little bit," Carson replied, before leaning over and kissing my forehead. He left the room, closing the door behind him and I sat staring around his room for a moment. But my heart had settled down and adrenaline wasn't coursing through my veins anymore, so the decision to peel back Carson's covers and try to fall asleep was a quick one.

***

Ice.

Ice everywhere.