His Protection

who would have thought we'd made it to 30

Sometimes when you experience trauma your brain blocks out memories. It's not uncommon nor unusual. But when the only person in your life diagnosing you is yourself things can go unnoticed. Unchecked. 

I wanted it to be like in the movies. When they pick up some random dusty forlorn object and suddenly everything comes rushing back in full HD sound and color. I thought seeing everything laid out, proof he wasn't dead would bring with it clear vivid images of what happened that day. But all I felt was a head ache creeping up the back of my scull. 

Doctors have never held a large place in the Pierce house hold. Visit the dentist only if in pain. Visit the doctor only if you have obtained a serious or deadly injury. I don't think I've ever been to an eye doctor. 

For the first time since leaving the haunted house I wanted to go back. Back to where it's hot and humid. Back to Daniel and our dogs. Back to Max, my favorite guard, I'm sure he's missing me right about now. Back to Summer and Xavier. 

Maybe this is why I never got out of that house. Because every time I tried to I just ended up waltzing back in as if it was my choice. Everything had gotten too serious too fast. Why now. I have been living on the brink of normalcy for years or at least the illusion of it. And now it's all falling apart. And if life couldn't get any worse. I was on my fucking period. 

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Luke POV:

I found Mavi out in the garden. All alone like a sad pitiful little puppy.

"Where's agent 007." She doesn't even acknowledge me. 

"Aw come on that one was mediocre." I sit beside her and I feel her head thunk onto my shoulder. 

"Tired?"

"Yea some how got pared with a bed buddy that snores." 

"I bet they're really hot." 

"I wouldn't count on it." 

"Sometimes I think I should take up MMA fighting just so I can professionally throw hands with you." She snorts but everything about her today is depressing. 

"Did hunter give you blue balls." 

"Wouldn't that be like blue clit. And no." I rest my head on hers. Time to wait for her to talk to me I guess. It shouldn't take long.

Except it did. Like way to long. I think I'm getting sunburn or dehydrated. But after too, too many minutes she starts talking.

"Was there anything different about me after the accident happened." The question threw me for a loop. I've always wondered how much she remembered from the incident or remembered in general. 

"Like did you do anything weird after it happened." Her head nods into my shoulder. I think back to me visiting her in the hospital. 

"I can recall that day really well."

"Tell me everything." 

"Well My mom had called me and told me what had happened." I was trying to put it as carefully as possible. "I guess I was just more so surprised than anything else. Scared." 

"I would be surprised too if I got a call in the middle of the day. With your mom saying you had swerved off of a highway into the ocean to avoid getting hit head on by an 14 wheeler going 60 mph on the wrong side of the rode." I don't say anything for a long while. Actually my entire everything goes blank.

"What did you just say." I move a foot away so I can look her in the eyes. 

"What do you mean." 

"How did you fall into the ocean?" I'm saying things harshly but my throat is burning.

"Well I was was biking home with Jax and all the sudden I see huge head lights coming towards us. I didn't know what to do except get out of the way." This time I move farther away until I'm standing. I start walking in circles. The doctors told me she could do this. 

When I went to the hospital her doctor explained that I should be careful and only engage in conversations about it if she starts it. The doctor told me that her brain might fill in the gaps in whatever way comforted her the most. But it was the honesty. The honesty in which Mavison said the words to me, like she was reciting something she actually knew. 

"Luke you're really freakin me out." Was it possible I was the one getting lied to. Or her for that matter. 

"That's not what my mom had told me on the phone." 

"Well what did she say." I turned to face her, from the angle her eyes looked black. 

"She told me you were on drugs. You lost control of your bike and went over the edge with Jackson. There was no truck on the wrong side of the rode."

"I wasn't on drugs." 

"That's what the doctors said. That's what the official report said. When they got you and ran all of the test they found drugs in your system." At this point I'm getting louder. Her skin is sickly pale. It goes with her black eyes. Actually at this very second she reminds me of when I first saw her in the hospital. She was sitting up and just staring at her hands, not moving. Bandages and gauze everywhere. 

When I had come in she glanced at me and her gaze stuck. I remember her eyes welling up before I practically sprinted to her and crushed her in a hug. At the time I hadn't really thought about how she had gotten drugs in her system. 

Even at that age she had been partying with people of a different class than me. A different level. But at that moment all I wanted was to make sure she stayed in one piece. 

"What drugs." 

"I'm not sure, I only know the information I just told you." 

"Why wasn't I told." 

"I thought you were told."  

"I need to call Daniel." I don't try an stop her. I don't get it. How have we never once talked about this. How did I never realize she didn't know anything. Seeing her in the hospital that day was the last time I saw her for almost half a year. Of course just as suddenly as she had disappeared I saw her slinking into class as if nothing had happened.

But I could feel it. Something had shifted. Maybe over the years I had normalized it but the day before the accident is the last time her eyes ever looked blue to me. At least like the blue they used to be. 

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Drugs were in my system. What kind of drugs. Why had no one told me. Was it all a lie. Which part was the truth then. I dial his number once I find a secluded place about 20 meters out. I listen as it rings and rings. I won't let him not pick up, I'll call him until he's to pissed not to answer. So I do just that, I call and call and call. 

Click  

I keep quiet and all I hear is air.

"Mr Pierce can't come to the phone right now but the lady of the house can." I clench my fists but I make sure my voice comes out even. 

"We both know you're no lady."

"Isn't a bitch close enough." 

Mary Rose Kasavic wasn't just any bitch. She was a rottweiler.

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Just finished final's. Was really fun hope to do it again some day. Nothing like the rush of watching 30% of your grade get thrown away. Any who I'm sure I'll read this in like four years and cringe at the rottweiler line but who cares. Can't believe this has over 75 k reads. Thanks dudes.                   -Winter