Forever

| Chapter Thirteen ~ Where Am I? ~ |

Richelle's Pov
My eyes slowly opened. A comforting warmth surrounded me as I stared at the blank walls that stood around me. It was weird. I didn't know where I was, but I felt safe.

I sat up, feeling the soft mattress shift a little as I did so. I was laying on darkness surrounded by light. I'd never been here before, where was it? I went to scratch my head, but didn't feel my head. My hands felt a soft texture; a bandage. I felt it hug my waist to, covering the marks where I'd been hit on the back.

I felt dizzy and confused.

"Richelle," a soft voice spoke to me, gently taking my hand, "you're awake."

My eyes darted up, only to be met with a kind face; Noah. He smiled at me as I looked slightly confused at him. What was going on? Where was my room?

He frowned.

"Do you feel okay?"

"Where am I?" I asked, ignoring his question.

"This...this is my room," he replied, a small smile grew back onto his face. "Listen, Richelle. Everything's okay. We had our nurse take a look at you, and she's done her best to help. Your sisters are okay too, they're staying with your aunt Clara. You could stay there too if you want...I don't mind."

I couldn't help but notice that he sounded a little sad at his last words, so I smiled and asked, "what's the other option?"

He looked up at me, a small smirk on his face as he said, "well, you could stay here."

"You know," I replied, moving a little closer to him, "I think I'd like that."

I placed a kiss on his cheek before asking, "do your parents know that we're...you know, a thing?"

"I may have forgotten to mention that," he apologised, "but we were a little busy trying to get you all out of the house."

I pondered. What on earth had happened whilst I was out? What had happened to my parents? What had happened to Noah?

"My parents," I asked, "where are they?"

He paused for a moment, anxiously biting his lip. He seemed almost scared to tell me. I didn't like my parents, nor did I love them. I just didn't want something awful to have happened to them. They were alive, weren't they?

"Noah," I pushed, trying to get a response.

"You see," he began, nervously scratching the back of his neck, "they're in prison."

I paused, taking in what he had said. Who had called the police? How they have evidence? They couldn't prove that my father had hit me, although he'd done a lot worse before that.

I remembered when I was five, Sophia's age, and he threw me down the stairs. My arm broke, but I was never taken to hospital, and it had never really healed.

Another time; my thirteenth birthday, Elizabeth's age. I remembered not wanting for it to be celebrated, I remembered feeling depressed. My father smashed a mirror on me that time. He also tried to strangle me with our dog's lead. Well, it was our dog's lead.

Benny (the dog) was my best friend. He was always there for me when I felt sad, he always licked the tears from my cheeks when I cried. He had glowing golden fur, after all, he was a golden retriever. I loved him so much. Then, his life was taken away from him, unnecessarily.

I was walking him one day. We were just outside our house. I heard my father yell at me, telling me to do the dishes. I told him I'd do it as soon as Benny and I got back, but he didn't take no for an answer. He pulled out a rifle, and shot Benny.

In that moment, I knew what an awful person he really was. I'd got used to the abuse he gave me, but when he shot Benny, I felt so angry. I grieved over him for years; I still did to this day. He was the sweetest dog in the world, he just wanted to please everyone.

"Good," I told Noah, anger passing through me, "they were the worst parents in the world."