Picking the Poppies {on hold}

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

My eyes fluttered open.

Where was Dan? I swear I'd fallen asleep lying on his shoulder.

I looked frantically around the room, watching out for any signs of life.

Then, I heard voices in the hallway.

"She's ok now, I think," Emma was saying.

"I should hope so!" came another voice - Tom!

"Tom!" I cried happily.

The door opened and Tom ran in, arms outstretched ready for a hug. I, willingly, lay down against his chest and hugged him tight.

I looked up to see a very stern face looking down at me.

"Life with Tom's not all fun and games," he whispered.

"Yeah, we would know," Dan muttered, nudging Emma, who smiled but shushed him.

"What do you mean?" I asked sweetly.

"I mean with your dad," he sighed.

"What about my dad?" I said coldly.

"I know you might not want to, but first you need to tell me what he did," Tom smiled hopefully.

"Got drunk and threw her against a wall, apparently," Dan said mildly, and wandered out of the room in search of another TV.

Emma rolled her eyes and followed him out.

I turned to face Tom, a serious look on my face.

"Tom, whatever I tell you now, you must promise not to get all protective. It was years ago," I said.

"Promise," he said immediately.

"Ok, so, when I was three, my mother died. I think it was something to do with internal bleeding from a fall. I'm not sure. Anyway, when I was four, dad started drinking. He was drunk a LOT of the time. I know he was pining for mum, and such, but it gave him no right to do what he was going to do," I stopped and took a deep breath.

"Carry on," Tom whispered.

"He started to get drunk when he was looking after me. He'd get so wasted that he would do stupid stuff. Look at my wrist," I said, showing Tom my scarred wrist. "He carved my mum's name with a knife on it-"

I stopped when I heard Tom's horrified gasp.

"It gets worse. Once, he threw me against a wall and started to throw things at me. He was just about to - to kill me when the next door neighbours turned up," I sobbed.

"Kill you how?" Tom asked gently.

"Well, I didn't know at the time, but afterwards in hospital the nurse said that one more blow to the head and I would have suffered too much internal and external bleeding. Losing too much blood isn't good, you know. I could have died. I was so close to dying," I wept.

Tom wrapped his arms around me and hugged me to his chest protectively. Whatever I said earlier about him not getting protective - who cares? I liked it.

"So - so now he's here, I don't know what to do," I cried. "He started yelling through the window at me yesterday saying that he had Alcoholics Anonymous guide him through his drinking problem. Yeah, right."

"Huh?"

"He stank of whisky when he was here," I sniffed.

"Well - I'm going to do all I can to keep you safe," Tom said gravely. "That means I'm calling the police."

"Huh? What? Why! They already know about when I was younger!"

"Yes, obviously, but they don't know that he's in the area. Did he go to prison?"

"Yeah, and a restraining order, but-"

"He almost killed you, Poppy, and I love you too much to let that happen again," Tom said seriously.

I smiled in spite of myself. Tom Felton just said he loved me.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

Ok guys! I'm doing quite regular updates now but don't look like it'll happen forever - it won't. I'm telling you now!

:') < my fave smiley.

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