TRAPPED

42

Celine

My dad brings lots of blankets and snacks for me. He also brings his laptop so I can watch other things that isn't old, crappy movies on the TV.

     I get back in my bed once he makes it up. He puts two blankets on top of the mattress so I can always be warm, then another two on top of me, beneath the duvet. He tucks the blankets into my sides, cocooning me within the sheets.

"Are you warm and comfy enough?" My dad asks me.

I nod.

I look at the seat beside me, at Léo. He has his eyes on the floor, an indecipherable expression on his face. I frown, glancing back at my dad. He's talking to Camilo now, asking him about his schoolwork.

"Oh, I forgot." My dad whispers. "I got you some things on the way up, to keep you occupied."

"Really?" I ask.

"Yeah." He responds. He grabs the bag all the blankets were in and pulls a separate plastic one out from it. He sets it in front of me. "I got your jumper thing that Nic got you, too. Léo."

Léo keeps looking at the floor.

"Léo." He repeats. "Léo."

"Hey." Julien throws a paper cup at him, and he jumps, snapping his head over to him as a scowl forms on his face. "Dad's talking to you."

Léo looks up at our father. I look at him, but it's like he's purposefully not looking at me.

Did I do something wrong?

"Can you pass Celine her jumper thing please? It's on the back of that chair." He asks.

Léo puts it on the edge of the bed.

"Thanks, baby." My dad says to him. Léo looks away, returning his focus to the floor. "Are you okay?"

He nods wordlessly.

I put the oodie on, then curl up on my side.

"You tired?" Mateo asks.

"Yeah." I whisper.

He turns the lamp beside my bed off, darkening the room. "Get some sleep." He tells me.

I yawn, closing my eyes. I'm out like a light within a few seconds.

Celine

When I wake up it's just my dad there. It's completely dark in the room and outside.

     I sit up, but immediately lay back down when an ache starts in my head. I clench my eyes shut, then peel them open.

     "Dad." I whisper.

     He doesn't reply, in a deep sleep.

     "Dad.. dad." I say. "Dad." I repeat, louder this time.

     He startles awake. He leans over immediately. "Are you okay, sweetheart?" He asks tiredly.

     I shake my head. "I feel like I'm gonna be sick."

     "Okay," he says quickly. He stands and grabs a bucket from the corner of the room. He gets it under me just in time for me to be sick into it. I cough, my eyes watering. Tears fall into the bucket too.