PLL NEXT CHAPTER: Chloe Marin [On going]

7th: Truth to be youth

The most corner house with a yellow fence. The postal box has a square shape, numbered 25 and passes through two old buildings.

I finally arrived in the house Timothy meant. The yard isn't quite wide. I thought I ran to a wrong house until I saw Oliver's motorbike in a half-open garage.

I venture into the yard and parked my bike there. Nervousness chilling after me. Not because I was excited to see him. But because of the warning Timothy gave me earlier.

"I suggest you think about it again. He doesn't like it when someone comes to his house."

"Why?"

"You'd better just call him and ask to meet in another place. If he refuses it, just let him rest in his bed."

What makes him unwanting to be found in his own house? He doesn't live in a hut and he lives in a beautiful environment. What could made him withdraw?

There's no bell button anywhere. There's also no hook to knock on the door. I look at the window that was covered by curtains. If only I hadn't seen his motorbike in slightly open garage, I might had thought there's no one in the house.

I take a breath before knocking on the door.

No answer.

I knock it on the door once more, a little tighter. I frown faintly. I heard something moving inside. But after I waited for a few secs, nobody has opened the door.

I knock on it once again, now it's more tighter. All I can hear is the sound of grunt. I swear the voice sounded like Oliver.

Is he sleeping?

My hand trembling when I turn the door knob. I was surprised, it wasn't locked at all.

When it's wide opened, I enter the house. The front room isn't that wide, I see a few bottles of beer on the living room table. The spill even stained in the brown carpet underneath and leaves a mark with a strong odor.

I walk into a corner near the kitchen. A long couch slept by someone. Oliver.

He covered almost all of his body with a blanket. If only I hadn't seen his stomach go up and down indicating his breath activity, I would have thought he was dead.

I approach him slowly. Something seemed to block me. His breathing sounds heavy.

"Ollie?" I called to him.

He doesn't budge.

I try to open the blanket. slowly pull it down until I seen a red and swollen rash at several spot on his face. Like punch bruises.

I gaped. Unconsciously pull the blanket loose until it slipped from his body. The wound wasn't only on his face, but also on his body. He wears only a pair of grey cotton pants so I can see the bruising near his muscle chest.

"Oh my god—"

Oliver grunts once more. His eyelids start to open. He blink once. As soon as his eyes fully opened, he realizes my unexpected presence.

He gasp in surprise.

"CHLOE? What the hell are you doing here?! "he cried out loud hastily to his feet. In instant, he grunt in holding his chest. He looks in pain.

"Ollie, what the hell happened to you? You're fighting with someone? Someone beat you up?" I sound so worried. I approach him but he stopped me instead.

"Who gave you my home address?" He asks furiously. I didn't answer him, instead I focused seeing bruises plastered his body. "Timothy?"

"I get worried, okay? You didn't return any of my calls and text. Trevor said you were sick. I intend to visit you and... I wanted to make sure you were fine. But...but ..." God . I sound like an idiot. I stammered in confusion.