Whirrr
Click.
End transcript.
I stared at the box, my hands shaking in my lap, silent tears rolling down my face. Blood was pounding in my ears, and it took everything I had to fight back the bile rising in my throat.
From down the stairs, I heard uncle Sam call my name. I took a breath, wiping my face, standing up out of the chair that I had been occupying for days.
Leaving my room, I quietly padded down the hall of the top floor of my uncles Brooklyn loft. I steadied myself on the handrail as I stepped down the stairs, trying to look somewhat presentable.
Sam looked up at me as I entered the kitchen. He flipped a pancake in the pan, grinning.
"There's my little rockstar. You know, considering I only get to see you for one month out of the entire year, it'd be nice if you left your room for more than twenty minutes."
"Sorry," I murmured, wiping my face again. "Been busy."
"Yeah?" He raised an eyebrow, turning to face me fully. Something in my face must have told him that things weren't right, and he set down the pan, turning off the stove.
"Woah, hey," He leaned over the counter, gently touching my hand. I had never liked being touched- prickly, Dad called me. Like a cactus. But this was Sam. "Kiddo, what's wrong?"
"I, uhm," I pursed my lips, trying to find the words, partially embarrassed. "I did a bad thing?"
Sam sat up straight.
"Are you pregnant?"
"What?" I shook my head. "No."
"Drugs? Alcohol? You drop out of school? Steal something? I've got some connections with the governor, I might be able to help-"
"Sam." I interrupted, my eyes snapping upwards to meet his gaze. He softened.
"Talk to me, girl." He sighed. "I can't send you back to your Dad all messed up, he'll have my head."
I fiddled with the fabric on my tank top, looking back down.
"Remember when you asked me to grab that photo album out of the attic a few days ago?"
Sam nodded, leaning onto the counter.
"Well, I found it, but underneath it was this envelope- and it was Moms handwriting- so I opened it. And I found the letter...and the transponder."
I couldn't meet my uncles eyes. I heard him clear his throat.
"That was meant for your 18th birthday. In fact, I'm pretty sure the envelope reads 'For My Baby Girl's 18th Birthday."
"I know."
"You're fifteen, Hayes."
"Yeah," I rubbed my face tiredly. "I know."
A long moment passed. Finally, I looked up, meeting his eyes.
There was no anger. No disappointment, even. No.
Concern.
"Did you listen all the way through?"
Slowly, I nodded. Sam sighed, moving away from the counter and into the pantry.
"The main reason," He called as he fished through the shelves. "That you weren't supposed to get it until you were an adult is because your mom wanted you to be healed. It's only been six years, and even if you felt ready to hear it, did you ever think that your dad might not be ready to answer all of your questions? That I might not be?"
YOU ARE READING
SURVIVE ➤ BUCKY BARNES
Fanfiction"i think of you-" "think of me?" August had never identified as a hero. She had never chosen to do what she did. Spending her entire life as a pawn in somebody else's wretched game. She was whatever they made her - a hero, a...
