Aggressive and Possessive

Chapter 17 Part 1

Joanna

I watched the girl stare out the train window, her mind deep in thought. The morning sun was just peeking through the trees, the sun's rays illuminating her beautiful qualities she held without the help of make-up. Her dark hair that was once in a tight bun is now messy, tangled and swept by the wind-but she didn't make any move to improve her look.

Beside her on the red, torn leather seat was a suitcase she managed to pack. On top of that was a small, white knitted bag with miniature pink and blue beads woven through the material, inside it containing a small amount of coins. In front of her was a small wooden table that the train provided. Upon her desk was a small journal with a brown leather cover, the pages inside yellow with ink splattered across them-her thoughts.

Her chin was supported by her palm as she watched the many trees and patches of dead grass zoom by, the high-speed train racing past the beautiful outdoors. The morning weather was artic-like and icy, but she refused to put on a jacket or even warm herself up with a blanket. And yet here I am, sitting down on the seat across from her, away from the window, wearing two sweaters and a small sheet.

Although she was gazing at the nature through the dirty window-dotted with marks of children's finger prints-it seemed as though she were looking at herself in the faint reflection the glass provided.

I couldn't help but stare at her in awe as she continued to watch herself. It's no secret she's emotionally drained, but she must feel free now. She should, at least.

She escaped Harry Styles.

Harry Styles.

A man with no emotion, no soul, no feeling.

She must be terrified.

I slowly slid across the leather seat, now sitting directly across from her. She continued gazing at herself in the reflection, her top eye lid meeting the bottom one slowly, only to be reopened seconds later. It's unmistakable that she's beyond exhausted; her neck was tilted to the side as her head rested against the glass for support.

I'm not sure if she's aware I'm across from her, and I can't exactly sit here and not say anything. This poor girl is going through a traumatic experience-so my sister says. I should try and do something nice, or at least comforting.

"Would you like something to eat?" I asked softly, "I can grab some food for you if you'd like."

She didn't respond or move-but her eyelids continued to flicker shut and reopen.

"They usually have a cart going by every now and then filled with scones and stuff," I added, raising my voice slightly, "And they have like... hot drinks you might enjoy."

She didn't reply.

"Well I'm sure if we ask nice enough they'll bring in a small television into our stall." I pointed out; hoping something might jump put and grasp her attention. "Do you want me to go see if they can do that? They should be able-"

"I'd... just like to sit," she stammered, her voice weak and almost in a hushed whisper. Even though she only said five words, it took her almost a lifetime to say.

She needs rest.

I immediately nodded, respecting her wishes.

"But thank you, Joanna," she added when her eyes fell shut once more.

I smiled politely, "No problem."

I sat there, waiting a few moments for her to reopen her eyes like usual, but she didn't. Instead they remained sealed, hiding her beautiful ocean orbs from the rest of the cruel world.