The Runaways

Chapter Sixty-Two - Adding Weight

Warren

Everything was suddenly happening so fast I couldn't tell what was going on. At this point I wasn't even concerned about a possible head injury like I usually would, I was too taken back to see Cleveland yelling at Remington and then Corban started crying and took off. What the hell was going on? Seeing Cleveland out of his shell and expressing his emotions was an accomplishment but I was worried about why Corban had gotten so emotional all the sudden and just took off.

There wasn't much I could do but sit there and hold my face like it had shattered and I was trying to keep it in place. In reality I was just afraid if it stopped putting pressure on my eye it would hurt worse. I felt so defeated sitting there confused and tired. I'm so tired— well I'm always tired. But lately I've just felt more and more worn down. Maybe it was constantly running into trouble this past week or so. Or maybe it's having to put up with Remingtons bullshit. Whatever it is I don't even have enough energy to be angry at this point for getting tackled and punched multiple times in the face. I'm just too tired. I want to go home but I can't. I'm so tired of walking town to town with no direction. I hurry the process of trying to separate myself from these guys and getting on track to finding Norah but the reality is I don't know where to start looking anymore. And I'm tired. I'm so very tired. I know I can't give up and I couldn't live with myself if I could. But it's getting so hard. Every morning— or whenever I get sleep —when I wake up it just feels like more and more weights are getting added on my back and I don't know how much more I'll be able to take at this point. And right now it just feels like I just had a cinderblock thrown at me to add to the pile.

I just laid back down in the grass holding my face together. I'm too tired to even process what's going on right now. I want to close my eyes but I know if I do that I'll fall asleep and when I wake up I'll feel even worse than I do now. So I just laid there enjoying the feeling of the grass, it was the only thing I wanted to process and could process due to how tired I was. It helped distract me from the throbbing in my face and the sharp pain in my lower back.

And then I opened my eyes after promising myself I wouldn't close my eyes and Cleveland was shaking me awake because I ended up falling asleep anyways and what a shocker I still feel tired and shitty.

"Hey, Warren I'm sorry  you know I usually hate having to wake you up but I really can't have you fall asleep right now. Just in case you have a concussion." Cleveland said in his usual quiet and shy voice.

I just sighed in response and rubbed my eye that didn't get punched by Remington. "I'm positive I don't have a concussion Cleveland."

"Well what if you are concussed? How can I know your thinking straight?"

"A concussion doesn't take away my three PhD's in neuroscience Cleveland." I mumbled as I sat there tiredly.

"Hey has anyone seen Corban?" Elias asked as he walked up to Cleveland and I, "He was just around a minute ago—"

"He ran off." I said bluntly, "I don't know why he just did. He didn't say anything."

Elias looked concerned, "Which direction? Where?"

I pointed to my right just behind where Elias was standing.

"Thanks. I'm going to go look for him." Elias said.

"Where's Remington then? I thought you were watching him?" Cleveland asked.

"He walked off. He'll be back just not for awhile." Elias responded as he began to walk away in the direction where Corban ran off to.

"Don't worry Warren we'll be out of here before he comes back." Cleveland said, "Do you want to sit up? See how you feel?"

I grumbled but agreed, I do need to see how badly messed up my back actually is instead of just laying on the grass hoping it would go away. So I set my palms on the grass next to me and very slowly pushed myself up off the ground. At first it seemed fine then once a reached a certain point pain jolted up through my lower back. I winced as the pain was persistent and was only getting worse, Cleveland even put a hand on my shoulder as if to help me sit up properly. This was an issue, and I haven't even tried standing yet.

"How bad is it?" Cleveland asked.

"Not good. I want to lay back down but I don't want to move." I said in a defeated tone. This was the last thing I needed. It would be at least another day or two for the pain to go away by my guess it's just a strained muscle or two but the last thing I need is another few days added to the cycle of abuse and torment my daughter had to go through. As much as I wanted to give up at this point, I knew I couldn't. I just sat there staring down at the grass. I wanted to scream but I was too tried to even feel angry anymore. Somehow everything just keeps piling on to one another and now I'm stuck. There's too many weights on my shoulders and I don't know how long I can keep this up for. As I felt the pressure building up I could feel my eyes start to water, even the one that was swelling up. Immediately I started feeling embarrassed that I was about to cry, especially after what Remington did it would make me loose even more dignity. The worst part about it was how I couldn't stop thinking how much my daughter must be used to this feeling. Crying with a black eye, unable to move without pain, defeat. Being beaten like this is probably the norm for her now and I'm barely doing anything to help her at this point. I'm just running around wasting time.

Thinking of that was what finally broke me and I started crying as quietly as I could. This was the last thing I needed to happen let alone having everyone else see it. I just covered my face with my hands and made muffled sniffling noises.

"Warren... does it hurt that bad?" Cleveland asked as his tone of voice became even more quiet and shy. He always feels uncomfortable and doesn't know how to respond when someone starts crying.

I shook my head, "I'm so tired Cleveland..." I just sat there in silence, I could imagine almost exactly what Cleveland's facial expressions as he tries to figure out what to do. Now I felt even more guilty with the silence. I'm basically the closest thing Cleveland has had to a parental figure after his parents died and no matter what a kid shouldn't have to be your therapist  that's dangerous. Sure Cleveland is a twenty-two year old adult man who's six-six and around two hundred and thirty pounds and could keep a person pinned to the ground longer than he can hold a conversation but he still has that child-like mindset. That vulnerability is still there and I don't think it will ever go away seeing that it's most likely a result from the trauma he experienced when his parents died, one having died literally while hugging him. Even though Cleveland is an adult who could defend himself much better than I can I still feel responsible for him and making sure that he doesn't need to see what I go through and over these past few months he's seen too much of that. So there's another weight added to the pile.

"Warren I'm sorry." Cleveland finally muttered as he broke the silence.

"It's fine. Your fine." I said as I tried pulling myself together and wiping the parts of my face that weren't beginning to swell or bruise, "I'm sorry you have to see this."

Cleveland just gently wrapped his arms around my shoulders and chest in a hug as a response. That's his best way of communicating. Just giving hugs. It did make me feel somewhat okay, it didn't fix everything going on in my mind but it was still okay.