The next few days passed in agony for all four roommates. Deanna, however, was taking everything worse than the three other girls. She'd just opened up and allowed herself to get close to Carly, only for the smaller girl to be torn away from her. The impending thought that Carly may end up in jail and never be able to come back home terrified Deanna.
In all her years on earth, Deanna had never suffered a loss as great as this one. Sure, she'd lost her great aunt when she was 7 years old, but she didn't remember anything about the woman. Her mother had scolded her for picking flowers at the funeral instead of mourning along with her family, but Deanna simply couldn't bring herself to feel sad over the loss of someone she barley knew.
Now Carly was another story. Deanna cared immensely about the younger girl. Granted, she used to hate her. But she found it impossible now, after learning about her. Deanna found it impossible to hate anyone once she figured out enough about them. Once she learned someone's true motives, it made it easier for her to sympathize with them.
She'd spent the rest of the weekend in bed. Her roommates would come into her room and check on her occasionally, but after she lashed out at them multiple times, they decided it was best to give Deanna her space.
It was only at 11 PM on Sunday that Deanna realized she had classes the next day. Which meant she was supposed to turn in another one of her independent art projects. After considering just skipping class, Deanna was eventually able to pry herself out of bed.
She flicked on the lights in her bedroom and searched her backpack for her materials. Her eyes scanned over the colors of paint she had to choose from, grimacing at all the bright vivid colors she'd brought home. Eventually, she shoved all but two tubes of paint back into her bag.
Using the black and white paints, she mixed a variety of grays in her palette. Gray, Because without Carly, everything seemed to lose its color. Bright colors only reminded her of what she could possibly lose.
She began to search in her closet for a canvas, swearing that she had one stashed away somewhere. Her heart stopped when she found what she had been looking for. It looked a bit different than she'd expected, though.
Instead of finding a plain white canvas, Deanna found a plain white canvas - covered in Carly's childish scribbles. She must have done this the morning she had colored in her sketchbook, as well.
Feeling tears welling in her eyes, Deanna slammed the painting down on her easel and began to blindly slather paint over the colorful drawings, wanting to get them out of her sight as quick as possible.
A few minutes and a fit of tears later, Deanna looked down at her palette only to realize she'd used up all of her paint. Glancing back up at the canvas, she bit her lip when she realized just how thickly she'd layered on the colors. Paint was dripping down the canvas, down the easel, and leaving small specks on the floor.
Growing increasingly frustrated with herself, Deanna threw her paintbrush down and groaned. She trudged back over to her bed and crawled under the covers, curling up in the same spot where she'd spent the entire weekend.
There was a knock at the door a few moments later. When Deanna didn't acknowledge it, Eya let herself into the room. She raised an eyebrow at the painting before walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed.
"How're you feeling?"
Deanna sighed, sitting up and wiping her eyes. "Why can't we just go... I don't know, fucking steal her back and leave the country?"
"Cause then we'd all end up in jail, dumbass," Eya laughed softly. "It's getting late..."
"I know," Deanna glanced at the clock. "I have class tomorrow."
"You're going?"
Deanna nodded. No matter how much she wanted to miss class, she knew she needed some sort of distraction. Sitting around and allowing her thoughts to run freely was only making her feel worse.
"What do you think she's doing right now?" Deanna said quietly after a few moments of silence. She saw Eya's face fall slightly and sighed. Neither of them liked the thought of Carly in a jail.
"From what I know, they're holding her in a cell until the trial," Eya ran a hand through her hair and glanced out the window. "And then... depending on what happens in trial, y'know..."
Deanna clenched her jaw and nodded. She knew. She'd thought about it for hours. "I better get some sleep," she said finally, deciding not to continue the conversation and work herself up even more. Eya nodded in understanding.
"We meet with the lawyer tomorrow," Eya reminded her, standing up from the bed. "We'll pick you up from class and we can drive there together?"
"Sure," Deanna sighed. "Night."
"It'll all work out somehow," Eya said quietly, giving Deanna a sad smile. Deanna just sighed and pulled the covers over herself. Eya slipped quietly out of the room.
Deanna tossed and turned, but finally ended up falling asleep, only to be woken up a few hours later by the blaring noise of her alarm. Groaning, she sat up and stared at her wall, working up the willpower to get out of bed.
As she was washing her face, Ivy appeared behind her in the mirror. She looked up, tilting her head to the side.
"Are you okay?" her roommate asked softly. Deanna splashed cold water on her face and nodded.
"Tired," she shrugged, drying off her face and dotting concealer under her eyes. "Thank god for makeup, right?"
Ivy laughed softly. "Yeah, really," she bit her lip. "You sure you're alright? We meet with the lawyer today and I figured it might be hard for you."
"I'm fine, Ivy," Deanna said firmly, not wanting her roommate to push the subject any further. She was trying her best to push any emotions out of her head. Luckily, Ivy took the hint, giving her a sad smile before leaving her alone.
Once Deanna was dressed, she scanned her bedroom one last time. When she saw the painting, she cringed. It would have to do, though. She had no time to throw together something else. Tucking it under her arm, she jogged out to her car, tossing it into the backseat carelessly.
She drove slowly to class, wanting to put it off for as long as possible. Deanna hadn't realized how much she needed Carly in her life until she was gone. Carly had brought color to her once dull skies. And now, the blue of the sky was slowly fading with each day of Carly's absence.
Eventually, she ended up in the front parking lot of her school. She parked, circling her car so she could grab her painting.
"Shit," she mumbled, noticing the chips of paint that had rubbed against the back of her seat. She picked up the canvas, turning it over and groaning when she saw the small white spaces where the thick sections of dried paint had chipped off. Now, some of Carly's childish scribbles were peeking through the black and gray coating.
She was too tired to try and think of a solution, so instead she tucked the painting under her arm and jogged inside to her classroom. Of course, she was late once again, and after apologizing a million times, she set her canvas in the back of the classroom and quietly took her seat.
Meanwhile, back at the apartment, Eya and Ivy were cooped up in Eya's bedroom, hovering over her laptop.
"How can she not have any family?" Ivy furrowed her eyebrows. They'd been trying to find someone who had connections to Carly for the past hour, but they'd come up empty handed each time.
"I have no clue," Eya sighed, shoving the laptop off of her lap. "I give up."
"I can't imagine having no family" Ivy said after a few minutes of silence between them. "That'd be... terrifying. I mean, the only person she had was her uncle and her uncle was a complete asshole."
"She had us," Eya lifted her head and sat up. "And Deanna."
"Deanna," Ivy raised her eyebrows suggestively.
Eya rolled her eyes at Ivy's playfulness and stood up, walking over to the window and staring at the city below them. "She's not taking it well. If Carly has to leave... y'know... She'll be crushed. I think if Carly will be end up in jail, Deanna will be broken"
"She didn't know what she was getting into," Ivy agreed.
******
Across the city, Deanna was just finishing her class. She practically ran to the door, but one of her classmates tapped her shoulder before she could leave and pointed to her teacher, who had been trying to get her attention. Deanna grimaced, dropping her shoulders in defeat and walking over to his desk.
"Your work this week is sure... different," Mr. Robertson began, setting her painting on the table. Deanna crinkled her nose, cursing herself for even turning it in. "You put a lot of emotion into this, yes?"
Deanna bit her lip and shrugged. "I guess."
"To me, this looks like a work of pure grief, Miss Wong," he leaned over the painting and traced the colorful marker underneath the paint, where Carly had drawn.
Deanna clenched her fists. "It's none of your business, actually. All you're supposed to do is grade it," she snapped, feeling her blood boiling. She couldn't help it.
Her teacher lifted his head to look at her, surprised by her sudden outburst. Deanna held her breath. He just nodded towards the door, signaling that she could leave. Deanna practically sprinted out of the room, not wanting to get herself into any more trouble.
When she made it to the parking lot, she glanced around for Ivy and Eya's car. All four roommates had agreed to drive to meet with the lawyer together. In her backpack, Deanna clutched Carly's journal close to her chest.
When she couldn't spot their car, she sat down on the curb and waited. Every time she was alone, Deanna's mind always seemed to wander to Carly. What was the small girl doing at that very moment? What if she was hurt? Or sick? Or scared? Deanna bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut.
The familiar rumble of Eya's pickup truck beckoned in the distance. Deanna lifted her head, noticing her friends waiting for her at the back of the parking lot. Sighing, she jogged over and slid into the backseat next to Riri, who squeezed her hand supportively.
"Ivy, it's a fucking left turn, look at the brochure," Eya leaned over from the driver's seat and fished a piece of paper out of the glove compartment, unfolding it and pointing to the small map.
"Hey dumbass, it's only a left turn if you hold it upside down," Ivy flipped the paper around to prove Ey wrong. Eya huffed and turned the car right, speeding off down the road.
"Calm down up there!" Riri huffed, turning to Deanna and rolling her eyes. "They'd been on edge all day."
"Have not," Ivy mumbled. "We're just nervous, that's all."
Deanna remained quiet while the girls fighting back and forth. Her mind was still on Carly. Only a few days stood between them and the trial. And everything would become even realer the moment she set foot in that courtroom.
"Deans...?" Riri said quietly. Deanna looked up.
"What!!?" she snapped.
"You're crying...?"
"Oh," Deanna whispered, wiping her eyes and turning her head away from the other girls. "I'm fine."
None of the other passengers in the car questioned her, knowing it would only make things worse. Ivy and Eya continued to argue over the directions until they finally pulled up in front of the large building.
They walked inside in silence, and a few minutes later they found themselves seated in a small room around a table, sitting across from a small man with a briefcase. Deann felt sick to her stomach. The reality of this was slowly sinking in.
"I guess we can get started then," he nodded once, pulling a stack of papers out from his briefcase and thumbing through them. "Carly had to undergo a psychiatric evaluation as well as a medical evaluation," he started.
Deanna swallowed hard.
"Unfortunately, she wasn't very compliant," he continued, making Deanna's heart drop in her chest. "Looks like we've got enough information, though, if we combine everything with her previous medical records. I'm assuming you girls know about the accident Miss Hernandez was involved in?"
All of them nodded except for Deanna, who just sat frozen. He flipped through the papers and pulled out a pale yellow sheet, sliding it across the table for them to look at.
"That's the official accident report," he explained, placing two pictures on the table in front of them. Deanna felt her stomach flip and she had to turn away to compose herself for a moment. "Those were taken the day after the accident. You can see where her skull was fractured, which is where most of the damage to her brain was done."
Turning back slowly, Deanna studied the picture. Carly was connected to a multiple of wires and machines. She was so small and vulnerable in the big hospital room. Deanna's hands shook and she had to shove the pictures back across the table for her own good. The other girls understood, just as shocked by them as she was.
"The trauma to her head was pretty severe," their lawyer continued, slipping the pictures back into his briefcase. "Typically, a traumatic brain injury has cognitive, perceptual, physical, and behavioral affects. All of which Miss Hernandez seems to be showing."
"Memory loss is evident, although it seems to be spotty in some cases. It's hard to identify the things she does remember, and the things she doesn't. She has trouble understanding others and processing her own information, as well as expressing her own thoughts, which is frustrating for her."
"But in her case, that doesn't seem to account for some of her... problems, to put it lightly," he sighed and fished through his papers again, reading one of them for a few moments.
"A history of abuse is evident, yes?" he turned to them. All four girls nodded.
"Her uncle," Deanna spoke up for the first time. "It started in 5th grade."
He nodded and jotted something down. The other three girls looked at her, wondering how she knew the information. Deanna ignored their gazes and took a deep breath.
"At first we thought her brain injury may have triggered something called non-fluent aphasia, which would explain her trouble speaking in full sentences," he cleared his throat and scanned the papers once more. "Which might be the case, but there seems to be more."
"There's a long recovery period after something as traumatic as a brain injury. Especially in Carly's case, she would have to relearn a lot of things that she'd lost in the accident," he explained. "Unfortunately, the person she was living with at the time was not only abusive, but negligent."
"Her uncle wasn't a fit caretaker. Carly didn't have any help in her recovery, which explains her... peculiar way of seeing things. Everything she knows she's most likely figured out on her own. With no socialization, this all can stunt her recovery. Are you following?"
Deanna clenched her hands into fists. Her blood was boiling with anger towards Carly's uncle. She settled on nodding slowly and forcing herself to breathe deeply.
"Now for her psych evaluation," he began, and Deanna's heart was beating rapidly. As if what she was already going through wasn't enough, there had to be even more. Carly didn't deserve any of this.
The man slid another paper out of his binder and laid it on the desk. "She showed signs of Posttraumatic Stress Disorder, most likely from the abuse that continued once she got home from the hospital."
"Basically, her brain is overwhelming itself. She already had damage done to her brain, so now having to process the abuse and any repressed memories is even harder for her than it would be for, say, me or you."
"THIS IS SO FUCKING STUPID!" Deanna snapped, slamming her hands into the table and standing up. "I DON'T GET WHY WE EVEN HAVE TO SIT HERE, WHILE CARLY IS OUT THERE, AND WE CAN'T EVEN HELP HER!"
She felt a hand on her arm and looked over at Eya, giving her a sympathetic look. No one seemed to be angry with her for being upset, and Eya tugged on her arm to urge her to sit back down. Deanna sighed and slouched back into her seat.
"You don't happen to be the one she calls 'Didi,' do you?" the man nodded to Deanna. The moment she heard the familiar nickname, Deanna burst into tears. Her roommates immediately crowded around her to calm her down.
"I'm fine, guys, I'm fine," Deanna mumbled, wiping her eyes and sniffing. Truth is, she wasn't fine, but she could fake it for now.
"I need to talk to him alone, I have..." she nodded towards her backpack. The girls understood, giving Deanna supportive smiles and slipped out of the room.
Once the door shut behind them, Deanna bent down and pulled Carly's old journal out of her backpack, flipping it open and setting it on the table.
Deanna bit her lip and thought for a moment. "She brought this with her when she showed up at our door," she lied. She couldn't confess to breaking into the house.
"She wrote about her uncle in here," Deanna said after taking a deep breath. The lawyer nodded, signifying to her that it was okay to go on. "She talks about how he... hit her, and at one point she says he threatened her with his gun, which I think could explain how she... you know."
Deanna passed the journal across the table for him to look at. She looked down at her hands in her lap, her anxiety growing by the second.
"Can I take pictures of these?" the lawyer asked, holding up a small digital camera. "This would serve as solid evidence in the courtroom." Deanna nodded softly, watching as he snapped a couple pictures of the pages, before passing the journal back across the table.
"I just wanted to brief you and your roommates on what we've concluded so far with Carly," he explained, beginning to store the papers back in his brief case. "We've got a solid argument, strong evidence, and proof of his abuse. I think we've got a pretty good chance."
Deanna took a deep breath and nodded. "Thank you," she said softly, holding Carly's journal tight to her chest and heading out to meet the other girls in the lobby.
*****TO BE CONTINUED***
a/n: a little bit more is explained in this chapter :)
sorry sa late update And gusto ko lang Sabihin na malapit Ng matapos itong story mga ilang chapters nalang :(
anyways, thank you . ♥️🦋