His Snowflake

Chapter 18 -Stay

"Just being there for someone can sometimes bring hope when all seems hopeless."

-Dave G. Llewelyn

-

Trevor's POV

It was 11pm and I swallowed another sleeping pill in hopes of finding the feeling where the darkness just takes over you and sleep arrives.

It's just been too long since I've got a rest. The year is coming to an end and so there have been many meetings with clients along with projects to accomplish. It was all of that on top of my onw workload that I normally have. Recently, I have been very stressed out and I felt guilty for taking a break while others weren't so I have been working overtime.

I really needed a rest but life just kept adding on to my existing weights that I needed to carry.

Life's just hard...

I tossed and turned in my bed, just praying over and over the same repeated stuff about begging any god out there to let me catch a break, when suddenly I heard ear-piercing screams.

It was Alana.

Immediately, I sprang out of bed and ran towards her room right down the corridor. I busted the door open to see Alana curled up in a ball, rocking herself, trying to calm down. She was trembling a lot with cold sweat running down her face and there was also...blood?

Wait...How? Did something happen today? I...

I just stood at the entrance of her room, trying to take in the sight that I was "welcomed" with. The white bed sheets were stained all red and looking closely, the blood was everywhere on her clothes too.

My train of thought was broken when I heard Alana's sobs. I quickly sat beside her and took both of her hands that were fisted in her hair and held them tight.

I waited for her to look up at me and when she did, I softly questioned, "Alana? Talk to me. I'm here Snowflake. Always will."

More tears welled up in Alana's eyes, my words seemingly affecting her in some way. She looked really hesitant to tell me anything as her eyes were darting all around the room without landing on me at all.

Before she could say anything, I got up and took out a first-aid-kit from the bedside drawer (usually I kept one in every room just in case) and I started dressing her wounds starting with her face.

I could evidently see handprints on her face, meaning she was slapped and definitely not just once. There was a gash on her forehead, which I would assume a scratch from a nail. I cleaned that up and placed some aloe vera on the slap marks.

Alana had stopped crying and a blank look replaced that traumatised look that she had while she sobbed just now.

Her face even though was blank, her eyes held a hidden curiosity, trying to find out why in the world I was helping her. She seemed as though I was the first not to just run away.

Do you really not know Snowflake?

I care. I care about you.

Seeing her hurt really infuriated me. Who would dare lay a finger on her? I wish I could protect her at all times. I will find out who did this to her and they will definitely not see the light of the day again.

After finishing up with taking care of her face, I looked at the blood on the sheets and back to her, waiting for an explanation. Without a word, Alana just took off her shirt, leaving her upper body exposed with only a bra on.

What I saw made me beyond horrified,

Bruises. Countless ones all over her torso. All in different sizes and different stages of healing,