Trigger warning: mentions of abuse and illness/injury
Reed
Tuesday Morning.
Dad left. I don't know when he is coming back.
I can't move.
I can't see.
I can't breathe.
Wednesday Morning.
The phone rang. I don't know at what time, I don't know who it was. It rang three times and never again. The house is empty so I can hear it's echoed call from my bedroom. From my locked door. Not that the lock would do anything.
Thursday Morning.
I have to eat something.
I have to move.
I have to pee.
It's too dark.
It's hard not to make a mess of things. I don't make it to the bathroom fast enough. The contents of my lunch end up on the carpet floor. Swallowed and not swallowed.
It's gross.
This has happened before. But not like this.
The phone rings again. I don't even know where my own personal cell is in the house. It must have fallen out of my pocket sometime earlier.
I can't walk all the way back upstairs. So I curl into a ball on the sofa. And sleep again.
Friday Morning.
There is a knock at the door. I think it might be some kind of school teacher asking about my absence, or maybe Dad's latest hottie saying she left her bra or lipstick here a while back.
The person knocks again.
"Go away." I croak. I'm not going to answer the door.
"Reed? Is that you? Are you okay?" It's that kid again. Cyrus.
"Go awa-" I start to raise my voice but that only sends me into a coughing fit.
"Reed? Open the door, you sound sick."
"I-" Still trying to catch my breath- "I can't open it."
That really sends Cyrus on some sort of worry/panic mode because he forces the door open. It was unlocked anyway, the only thing blocking it would be the mountain of clothes and junk against the door.
His nose wrinkles at the smell, his eyes try and search for a figure in the slim light.
"Reed? Is that you?" He asks to my disgruntled figure on the couch.
"No, it's some other injured teenager in a tight ball and in a dark house." At least I still have some form of bite to me.
Cyrus must have found a light switch because my vision goes blurry with florescent pain.
That's when he has a better look at me and his face is in shock. Not as much as I thought it was going to be, which is weird. How many abused kids has he seen?
"Oh my gosh, Reed- You're clearly not okay. Do I need to call the ambulance? When was the last time you ate?" Questions, too many questions, too many questions about how I feel.
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Backstage; Wonah/Rester
Fanfiction(Slow updates) Life is going great for Reed, his parents are divorced, his dad just got another girlfriend, his best friend seems to hate him, and on top of that, his grades are plummeting. So when one screw up leads to the next, Reed and Lester en...
