The Boy Who Sneaks In My Bedroom Window
Chapter 1
I sat on the kitchen counter, watching my Mum make pasta bake; she was panicking slightly and kept glancing at the clock every couple of minutes. I knew why she did this, my Dad was due home in exactly sixteen minutes and he liked dinner to be on the table as soon as he got in.
Liam wandered in, playing with his Spider-Man figures. "Mum, can I go play at Lou's? he asked, giving her the puppy dog look.
She glanced at the clock again and shook her head quickly. "Not right now, Li Li. Dinner won't be long and we need to eat as a family." She flinched slightly as she spoke.
Liam's face fell, but he nodded and came to sit next to me. I immediately snatched the little man out of his hands and laughed as he gasped and snatched it back, smiling and rolling his eyes at me. He was a cute kid, with blond hair and grey eyes with brown flecks in them. He was my big brother, and as big brothers went, he was the best. He always looked after me at home and at school, made sure no one picked on me. The only one allowed to pick on me, as far as he was concerned, was him, and to a lesser extent his best friend Louis, who happened to live next door.
"So, Ambs, you need help with your homework?" he asked, nudging his shoulder into mine. Jake was ten, and was two years older than me, so he always helped with my school work.
"Nope. I didn't get any." I smiled, swinging my legs as they dangled off of the counter.
"OK, kids, go set the table for me. You know how. Exactly right, OK?" Mum asked, sprinkling cheese on the pasta and putting it into the oven. Liam and I jumped down from the counter and grabbed the stuff, heading to the dining room.
My Dad was very particular about everything, if everything wasn't exactly right, he got angry and no one ever wanted that. My Mum always said that my Dad had a stressful job. He always got easily annoyed if we did anything wrong. If you had heard that saying 'Children should be seen and not heard', well, my Dad took that to another extreme. Instead, he liked 'Children shouldn't be seen or heard'. At five thirty everyday he would come home, we would eat dinner straight away, and then Liam and I would bee sent to our bedrooms, where we played quietly until seven thirty when we would have to go to bed.
I hated this time every day. Everything was fine until he came home, and then we all changed. Liam always went quiet and and didn't smile. My Mum got this look on her face, like fear or worry, and she would start rushing around plumping up the cushions on the sofa. I always just stood there and silently wished I could hide in my room and never come out.
Liam and I set the table quietly, and then sat down in silence, waiting for the click of the door to signal that he was home. I could feel my stomach fluttering, my hands starting to sweat as I prayed in my head that he'd had a good day and he would be normal tonight.
Sometimes, he would be in a really good mood and would hug and kiss me. Telling me what a special little girl I was, and how much he loved me. That was usually on Sunday. My Mum and Liam would go to hockey practice and I would be left home with my father. Those Sundays were the worst, but I didn't ever tell anyone about those times, or how he touched me and told me how pretty I was. I hated those days, and wished the weekends would never come. I would much rather it be a school day when we would only see him for dinnertime. I definitely preferred it when he looked at me with the angry eyes, than when he looks at me with the soft eyes. I don't like that at all, it made me feel uncomfortable, it always made my hands shake. Thankfully though, today was only Monday so I had almost a week before I would have to worry about that again.
A couple of minutes later he walked in. Liam shot me a look that told me to behave and he held my hand under the table. My father had blond hair, the same colour as Liam's. He had brown eyes, and was always frowning.
"Hello, kids," he said in his loud deep voice. A shudder tickled down my spine as he spoke. He set his briefcase on the side and took his seat at the head of the table. I tried not to show any reaction to him; actually, I tried not to move at all. It always seemed to be me who got everyone in trouble or who did something wrong. It always seemed to be me who made things worse for everyone. It never used to be like this, I used to be Daddy's little girl, but since he started his job, three years ago, he changed. Our relationship with him changed completely. He still favoured me over Liam, But when he came home from work, it was like he wanted to pretend that Liam and I weren't there. The way he looked at Liam sometimes was like he was wishing he didn't exist, it made my stomach hurt to see him look at my brother like that.
"Hello, Dad," we both replied at the same time. Just then my Mum came in carrying the pasta and a plate of garlic bread.
"This looks nice, Margaret," he said, giving her a smile. We all started eating in silence and I tried not to shift on my seat uncomfortably. "So, how was school, Liam?" he asked my brother. Jake looked up, his eye widening in apparent surprise. “It was good, thank you. I tried out for the ice hockey team and Liam and I were-” he started, but my father nodded, not listening.
“That’s great, son,” he interjected. “What about you, Amber?” he asked, turning his gaze on me.
Oh no. OK, be polite, don’t ramble. “Good, thank you,” I replied quietly.
“Speak up child!” he shouted.
I flinched at his tone, wondering if he was going to hit me, or maybe send me to bed with no dinner. “It was good, thank you,” I repeated a little louder.
He frowned at me and then turned to my mom who was wringing her hands together and chewing on her bottom lip. “So, Margaret, what have you been doing today?” he asked, eating his food.
She cleared her throat. “Well, I went to the supermarket and got that shampoo that you like, and then I did some ironing,” she answered quickly. It sounded like a prepared answer; she always did that - had her answers ready so that she wouldn’t say anything inappropriate and make him mad.
I reached out my hand for my drink, but I wasn’t watching properly and knocked it over, spilling the contents over the table. All eyes snapped to my father, who jumped up from his chair. “Shit! Amber, you stupid little bitch!” he growled, grabbing the top of my arm and pulling me roughly from the table. Suddenly my back hit the wall, pain shot down my back and I bit my lip to stop from crying. Crying made it worse, he hated crying, he said only weak people cried. His eyes were hard and angry as he drew his hand back, sneering down at me. I held my breath waiting for the blow, knowing that there was nothing I could do but take it, the same as always.
Almost instantly my brother jumped from his chair and threw himself at me, wrapping his arms around me tightly, covering me. His was back to our father as he protected me. “Get the hell off of her, Liam! She needs to learn to be more careful!” my father ranted, grabbing hold of Liam by his clothes and throwing him to the floor. The palm of my father’s hand connected with my cheek. The force of the blow knocked me to the floor as my face burned with white hot pain. Then his attention turned to Liam. His foot made contact with my brother’s thigh making him cry out in agony as he tried to curl into a ball to protect his head. “You don’t ever get in my way again, you little shit!” he shouted.
Silent tears were flowing down my face. I couldn’t stand to see him hurt my brother; he was only trying to protect me. Liam always did that. Whenever I got into trouble, he would provoke my father so that he would take it out on him instead.
I whimpered as my father glared at us both in turn before turning and picking up his plate and storming into the lounge. He was muttering something about us being ‘the worst kids in the world’ and ‘how the hell did he get stuck with this life’.
As soon as he was out of the room, I crawled over to my brother and wrapped my arms around him tightly, clinging to him as if my life depended on it. He groaned and pushed himself up to sitting, hugging me back, rubbing his hand across my stinging cheek, hissing through his teeth.
“I’m so sorry, Liam. I’m so sorry,” I mumbled quietly, crying onto his shoulder.
He shook his head. “It’s alright, Ambs. It’s not your fault,” he croaked, smiling weakly and trying to get to his feet. I jumped up as he wobbled and wrapped my arm around his waist, helping to steady him on his injured leg. Movement to my right made me jump as I imagined my father coming back in to cause more harm, but instead I saw my mother. She was frantically clearing the table and using a paper towel to sop up the water that I’d spilt.
“Take your dinner to your rooms and eat, OK?” she instructed, kissing us both on the cheek. She needed to go to my father and do damage control, he would be in a rage in there due to my mistake, and she needed to calm him down before anything else happened. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning. I love you both. Please be quiet, and whatever happens, stay in your rooms,” she ordered, quickly kissing us again and handing us our half eaten dinners, before pushing us towards the back hallway.
We had a nice house, four bedrooms, and it was all on one level. My father earned good money so we lived in a nice area, but I would rather the house was smaller so he wouldn’t have to work in his job. Maybe then he would be like the old Dad, taking us to the park and buying me toys and candy.
Liam came to my room and we ate in silence, sitting on the floor near my bed. He held my hand tightly as my father started shouting at my mother in the lounge. Something smashed and I winced, feeling my heart sink. This was entirely my fault.
My body was wracked with uncontrollable sobs as I imagined what he was doing to my mom in there. Liam’s arm slipped around my shoulders, squeezing me against his side. He’d always acted so much older than me; he was so much more mature than I was. “It’s OK. Everything’s OK, Ambs. Don’t worry,” he cooed, stroking my hair.
Once I had calmed down, and the shouting had stopped, we played snap cards for a little while. When we were in the middle of the game, we heard stomping coming up the hallway. Liam’s body stiffened as he stared at my bedroom door with wide eyes. Thankfully though, the footsteps didn’t stop and seconds later my parent’s door closed. I let out the breath I didn’t realise I was holding and slumped down, closing my eyes. It was over for the night.
“I’d better go to my room, it’s after seven,” Liam muttered, motioning towards my alarm clock that sat on my bedside unit. “Lock your door. I’ll see you in the morning.” He pushed himself up and limped to my door. I stood too, watching as he crept out of my room and across the hall to his own. As he opened his door, he turned and smiled weakly. “Lock your door,” he mouthed.
I nodded and crossed my room, waving goodbye before I closed my door and locked it. I put my ear to the wood, listening for the tell-tale click of Liam locking his door too. Once I heard the click that signalled he was safe for the night, I turned and ran to my bed, throwing myself down onto it and burying my face into the soft pillow as the tears started up again. I’d been stupid again tonight and I’d gotten my brother, and probably my mother, hurt again.
As I cried helplessly, for the hundredth time I considered running away. But I quickly dismissed that idea, as I always did, because I didn't want to leave Liam here alone with my dad. Deep down I knew I would never be able to convince him to come with me because he wouldn't leave my Mum defenceless either. We were all stuck here at the mercy of a cold, heartless man.
Suddenly, there was a scratching, tapping noise on my window. I jerked up, shocked, looking up quickly to see Louis was standing outside my bedroom window. He was Liam’s best friend, and had been since we moved in to our house four years ago. I gasped and jumped up, heading over to it quickly. Panic was setting in because if my father caught him in here I wasn't sure what he’d do. I didn't want to be responsible for another person being hurt tonight.
I gritted my teeth as I unlocked the window and slid it up, praying it wouldn't squeak or make a sound. Cold, fresh air hit me in the face as I leant out, shaking my head in disbelief. “Louis, what are you doing here? You need to go, now!” I hissed. But the stupid boy just put his hand on my shoulder, pushing me back inside as he cocked his leg up and climbed into my room. My mouth dropped open in shock as I looked back at my bedroom door, panic-stricken. If my father caught him here he would go crazy; he didn’t like Louis to come and play at our house, he always said he was too noisy. I looked back at Lou, shaking my head in disbelief.
What is he doing? Does he think this was Liams room instead of mine? Maybe he snuck in to the wrong window…
Lou and I didn't get on at all, so I had no idea what he was doing here now. He seemed to make it his ambition to tease the life out of me; he tripped me all the time, pulled my hair and had the most annoying habit of calling me Angel. He’d called me it from the moment we met, and it had always driven me mad, but he refused to stop.
“Louis, get out!” I whispered, desperately trying to push him back towards the window. He didn't budge; he just wrapped his arms around me tightly and pulled me against his chest. I thrashed, trying to push him away, but he just tightened his hold on me.
“It’s OK,” he whispered, stroking my hair. It felt so nice to be comforted again that the tears came back with a vengeance. Louis knew about my father and the abuse that we all went through. Liam had been covered in bruises once and had blurted out the truth to his best friend. Liam and I had both begged him not to say anything though, and to this day, he never had.
I whimpered, angry at myself for crying again, but I couldn’t seem to stop. I sniffed loudly, swiping at my nose with the back of my hand. I looked up at Lou, seeing he had tears in his blue eyes too as he just continued to hold me. My chin wobbled as I pulled back to look at him. “What are you doing here?” I whispered.
He sighed and sat down on the edge of my bed, pulling me down next to him as he rocked me gently. “I saw you through the window. I just wanted to come and make sure you were alright,” he whispered back, still hugging me tightly.
I looked back at the window. Louis's room was directly opposite mine, and I could see into his room, which meant that he could see into mine. I bit my lip and nodded as I pressed myself against him, needing the comfort.
As I cried against his chest, I realised that he was wearing a Power Rangers T-shirt and matching shorts. I frowned, a little confused as to why he would be wearing that, it was freezing outside. Then it dawned on me that he was wearing his pyjamas ready for bed. My eyes flicked to my alarm clock, seeing it was almost half past eight. I’d been crying for over an hour.
After a while, the tears slowed but didn’t stop. “I’m OK. You need to go,” I whispered, pushing him again, trying to get him off of my bed.
He shook his head firmly. “I’m not leaving until you stop crying,” he stated. His arms tightened on my waist as he guided me to lay down on my bed with him. His arms were so tight around me that I couldn’t even squirm away an inch. It was nice though. The firm grip he had on me made me feel safe and protected. I stopped struggling and just gave in, scooting even closer to him, pressing my whole body against his as I sobbed on his chest.
I woke in the morning, still tightly wrapped in his arms; I gasped and looked at the clock. 6:20 a.m. “Louis!” I whispered, shaking him.
“Ahh, what, Mom?” he mumbled with his eyes shut.
My heart leapt into my throat. “Shh!” I hissed, quickly covering his mouth before he spoke again. I looked back at the door, waiting for my father to smash the door in and see Louis in our house. I can’t believe we fell asleep, this is so bad.
His eyes snapped open and he looked at me, bewildered. His gaze flicked around my room as he gasped too. “Oh no, did I fall asleep?” he whispered, sitting up and rubbing a hand through his chocolate brown hair, making it stick up at all angles.
“You need to go home. Quickly!” I hissed, grabbing his hand and using all of my might to tug him up to his feet. He nodded with wide eyes and ran to the window, sliding it open and throwing his leg over the windowsill. I watched as he climbed out. When he reached up to close my window for me, I caught his hand and smiled gratefully. “Thanks,” I whispered. I’d genuinely needed that hug last night; that was probably the nicest thing Louis had ever done for me.
He smiled back, his sky blue eyes glittering in the early morning sun. “You’re welcome, Angel.” He slid the window back into place and then turned, jogging across the dew covered grass and disappeared through the hole in the fence between our two properties.
When he appeared again it was to climb back in through his own window. I smiled and sent him a small wave before closing my drapes and breathing out a sigh of relief that he hadn’t been caught. The thought of my father hurting Louis made my stomach hurt. We’d been extremely lucky not to have been caught. I dreaded to think what would have happened if his parents had gone into his room in the night and saw his bed empty, or what would have happened if I hadn’t woken up early. I shuddered at the thought of what my father would do if he had walked in here to find Louis in the house at night-time.
Liam wandered in, playing with his Spider-Man figures. "Mum, can I go play at Lou's? he asked, giving her the puppy dog look.
She glanced at the clock again and shook her head quickly. "Not right now, Li Li. Dinner won't be long and we need to eat as a family." She flinched slightly as she spoke.
Liam's face fell, but he nodded and came to sit next to me. I immediately snatched the little man out of his hands and laughed as he gasped and snatched it back, smiling and rolling his eyes at me. He was a cute kid, with blond hair and grey eyes with brown flecks in them. He was my big brother, and as big brothers went, he was the best. He always looked after me at home and at school, made sure no one picked on me. The only one allowed to pick on me, as far as he was concerned, was him, and to a lesser extent his best friend Louis, who happened to live next door.
"So, Ambs, you need help with your homework?" he asked, nudging his shoulder into mine. Jake was ten, and was two years older than me, so he always helped with my school work.
"Nope. I didn't get any." I smiled, swinging my legs as they dangled off of the counter.
"OK, kids, go set the table for me. You know how. Exactly right, OK?" Mum asked, sprinkling cheese on the pasta and putting it into the oven. Liam and I jumped down from the counter and grabbed the stuff, heading to the dining room.
My Dad was very particular about everything, if everything wasn't exactly right, he got angry and no one ever wanted that. My Mum always said that my Dad had a stressful job. He always got easily annoyed if we did anything wrong. If you had heard that saying 'Children should be seen and not heard', well, my Dad took that to another extreme. Instead, he liked 'Children shouldn't be seen or heard'. At five thirty everyday he would come home, we would eat dinner straight away, and then Liam and I would bee sent to our bedrooms, where we played quietly until seven thirty when we would have to go to bed.
I hated this time every day. Everything was fine until he came home, and then we all changed. Liam always went quiet and and didn't smile. My Mum got this look on her face, like fear or worry, and she would start rushing around plumping up the cushions on the sofa. I always just stood there and silently wished I could hide in my room and never come out.
Liam and I set the table quietly, and then sat down in silence, waiting for the click of the door to signal that he was home. I could feel my stomach fluttering, my hands starting to sweat as I prayed in my head that he'd had a good day and he would be normal tonight.
Sometimes, he would be in a really good mood and would hug and kiss me. Telling me what a special little girl I was, and how much he loved me. That was usually on Sunday. My Mum and Liam would go to hockey practice and I would be left home with my father. Those Sundays were the worst, but I didn't ever tell anyone about those times, or how he touched me and told me how pretty I was. I hated those days, and wished the weekends would never come. I would much rather it be a school day when we would only see him for dinnertime. I definitely preferred it when he looked at me with the angry eyes, than when he looks at me with the soft eyes. I don't like that at all, it made me feel uncomfortable, it always made my hands shake. Thankfully though, today was only Monday so I had almost a week before I would have to worry about that again.
A couple of minutes later he walked in. Liam shot me a look that told me to behave and he held my hand under the table. My father had blond hair, the same colour as Liam's. He had brown eyes, and was always frowning.
"Hello, kids," he said in his loud deep voice. A shudder tickled down my spine as he spoke. He set his briefcase on the side and took his seat at the head of the table. I tried not to show any reaction to him; actually, I tried not to move at all. It always seemed to be me who got everyone in trouble or who did something wrong. It always seemed to be me who made things worse for everyone. It never used to be like this, I used to be Daddy's little girl, but since he started his job, three years ago, he changed. Our relationship with him changed completely. He still favoured me over Liam, But when he came home from work, it was like he wanted to pretend that Liam and I weren't there. The way he looked at Liam sometimes was like he was wishing he didn't exist, it made my stomach hurt to see him look at my brother like that.
"Hello, Dad," we both replied at the same time. Just then my Mum came in carrying the pasta and a plate of garlic bread.
"This looks nice, Margaret," he said, giving her a smile. We all started eating in silence and I tried not to shift on my seat uncomfortably. "So, how was school, Liam?" he asked my brother. Jake looked up, his eye widening in apparent surprise. “It was good, thank you. I tried out for the ice hockey team and Liam and I were-” he started, but my father nodded, not listening.
“That’s great, son,” he interjected. “What about you, Amber?” he asked, turning his gaze on me.
Oh no. OK, be polite, don’t ramble. “Good, thank you,” I replied quietly.
“Speak up child!” he shouted.
I flinched at his tone, wondering if he was going to hit me, or maybe send me to bed with no dinner. “It was good, thank you,” I repeated a little louder.
He frowned at me and then turned to my mom who was wringing her hands together and chewing on her bottom lip. “So, Margaret, what have you been doing today?” he asked, eating his food.
She cleared her throat. “Well, I went to the supermarket and got that shampoo that you like, and then I did some ironing,” she answered quickly. It sounded like a prepared answer; she always did that - had her answers ready so that she wouldn’t say anything inappropriate and make him mad.
I reached out my hand for my drink, but I wasn’t watching properly and knocked it over, spilling the contents over the table. All eyes snapped to my father, who jumped up from his chair. “Shit! Amber, you stupid little bitch!” he growled, grabbing the top of my arm and pulling me roughly from the table. Suddenly my back hit the wall, pain shot down my back and I bit my lip to stop from crying. Crying made it worse, he hated crying, he said only weak people cried. His eyes were hard and angry as he drew his hand back, sneering down at me. I held my breath waiting for the blow, knowing that there was nothing I could do but take it, the same as always.
Almost instantly my brother jumped from his chair and threw himself at me, wrapping his arms around me tightly, covering me. His was back to our father as he protected me. “Get the hell off of her, Liam! She needs to learn to be more careful!” my father ranted, grabbing hold of Liam by his clothes and throwing him to the floor. The palm of my father’s hand connected with my cheek. The force of the blow knocked me to the floor as my face burned with white hot pain. Then his attention turned to Liam. His foot made contact with my brother’s thigh making him cry out in agony as he tried to curl into a ball to protect his head. “You don’t ever get in my way again, you little shit!” he shouted.
Silent tears were flowing down my face. I couldn’t stand to see him hurt my brother; he was only trying to protect me. Liam always did that. Whenever I got into trouble, he would provoke my father so that he would take it out on him instead.
I whimpered as my father glared at us both in turn before turning and picking up his plate and storming into the lounge. He was muttering something about us being ‘the worst kids in the world’ and ‘how the hell did he get stuck with this life’.
As soon as he was out of the room, I crawled over to my brother and wrapped my arms around him tightly, clinging to him as if my life depended on it. He groaned and pushed himself up to sitting, hugging me back, rubbing his hand across my stinging cheek, hissing through his teeth.
“I’m so sorry, Liam. I’m so sorry,” I mumbled quietly, crying onto his shoulder.
He shook his head. “It’s alright, Ambs. It’s not your fault,” he croaked, smiling weakly and trying to get to his feet. I jumped up as he wobbled and wrapped my arm around his waist, helping to steady him on his injured leg. Movement to my right made me jump as I imagined my father coming back in to cause more harm, but instead I saw my mother. She was frantically clearing the table and using a paper towel to sop up the water that I’d spilt.
“Take your dinner to your rooms and eat, OK?” she instructed, kissing us both on the cheek. She needed to go to my father and do damage control, he would be in a rage in there due to my mistake, and she needed to calm him down before anything else happened. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning. I love you both. Please be quiet, and whatever happens, stay in your rooms,” she ordered, quickly kissing us again and handing us our half eaten dinners, before pushing us towards the back hallway.
We had a nice house, four bedrooms, and it was all on one level. My father earned good money so we lived in a nice area, but I would rather the house was smaller so he wouldn’t have to work in his job. Maybe then he would be like the old Dad, taking us to the park and buying me toys and candy.
Liam came to my room and we ate in silence, sitting on the floor near my bed. He held my hand tightly as my father started shouting at my mother in the lounge. Something smashed and I winced, feeling my heart sink. This was entirely my fault.
My body was wracked with uncontrollable sobs as I imagined what he was doing to my mom in there. Liam’s arm slipped around my shoulders, squeezing me against his side. He’d always acted so much older than me; he was so much more mature than I was. “It’s OK. Everything’s OK, Ambs. Don’t worry,” he cooed, stroking my hair.
Once I had calmed down, and the shouting had stopped, we played snap cards for a little while. When we were in the middle of the game, we heard stomping coming up the hallway. Liam’s body stiffened as he stared at my bedroom door with wide eyes. Thankfully though, the footsteps didn’t stop and seconds later my parent’s door closed. I let out the breath I didn’t realise I was holding and slumped down, closing my eyes. It was over for the night.
“I’d better go to my room, it’s after seven,” Liam muttered, motioning towards my alarm clock that sat on my bedside unit. “Lock your door. I’ll see you in the morning.” He pushed himself up and limped to my door. I stood too, watching as he crept out of my room and across the hall to his own. As he opened his door, he turned and smiled weakly. “Lock your door,” he mouthed.
I nodded and crossed my room, waving goodbye before I closed my door and locked it. I put my ear to the wood, listening for the tell-tale click of Liam locking his door too. Once I heard the click that signalled he was safe for the night, I turned and ran to my bed, throwing myself down onto it and burying my face into the soft pillow as the tears started up again. I’d been stupid again tonight and I’d gotten my brother, and probably my mother, hurt again.
As I cried helplessly, for the hundredth time I considered running away. But I quickly dismissed that idea, as I always did, because I didn't want to leave Liam here alone with my dad. Deep down I knew I would never be able to convince him to come with me because he wouldn't leave my Mum defenceless either. We were all stuck here at the mercy of a cold, heartless man.
Suddenly, there was a scratching, tapping noise on my window. I jerked up, shocked, looking up quickly to see Louis was standing outside my bedroom window. He was Liam’s best friend, and had been since we moved in to our house four years ago. I gasped and jumped up, heading over to it quickly. Panic was setting in because if my father caught him in here I wasn't sure what he’d do. I didn't want to be responsible for another person being hurt tonight.
I gritted my teeth as I unlocked the window and slid it up, praying it wouldn't squeak or make a sound. Cold, fresh air hit me in the face as I leant out, shaking my head in disbelief. “Louis, what are you doing here? You need to go, now!” I hissed. But the stupid boy just put his hand on my shoulder, pushing me back inside as he cocked his leg up and climbed into my room. My mouth dropped open in shock as I looked back at my bedroom door, panic-stricken. If my father caught him here he would go crazy; he didn’t like Louis to come and play at our house, he always said he was too noisy. I looked back at Lou, shaking my head in disbelief.
What is he doing? Does he think this was Liams room instead of mine? Maybe he snuck in to the wrong window…
Lou and I didn't get on at all, so I had no idea what he was doing here now. He seemed to make it his ambition to tease the life out of me; he tripped me all the time, pulled my hair and had the most annoying habit of calling me Angel. He’d called me it from the moment we met, and it had always driven me mad, but he refused to stop.
“Louis, get out!” I whispered, desperately trying to push him back towards the window. He didn't budge; he just wrapped his arms around me tightly and pulled me against his chest. I thrashed, trying to push him away, but he just tightened his hold on me.
“It’s OK,” he whispered, stroking my hair. It felt so nice to be comforted again that the tears came back with a vengeance. Louis knew about my father and the abuse that we all went through. Liam had been covered in bruises once and had blurted out the truth to his best friend. Liam and I had both begged him not to say anything though, and to this day, he never had.
I whimpered, angry at myself for crying again, but I couldn’t seem to stop. I sniffed loudly, swiping at my nose with the back of my hand. I looked up at Lou, seeing he had tears in his blue eyes too as he just continued to hold me. My chin wobbled as I pulled back to look at him. “What are you doing here?” I whispered.
He sighed and sat down on the edge of my bed, pulling me down next to him as he rocked me gently. “I saw you through the window. I just wanted to come and make sure you were alright,” he whispered back, still hugging me tightly.
I looked back at the window. Louis's room was directly opposite mine, and I could see into his room, which meant that he could see into mine. I bit my lip and nodded as I pressed myself against him, needing the comfort.
As I cried against his chest, I realised that he was wearing a Power Rangers T-shirt and matching shorts. I frowned, a little confused as to why he would be wearing that, it was freezing outside. Then it dawned on me that he was wearing his pyjamas ready for bed. My eyes flicked to my alarm clock, seeing it was almost half past eight. I’d been crying for over an hour.
After a while, the tears slowed but didn’t stop. “I’m OK. You need to go,” I whispered, pushing him again, trying to get him off of my bed.
He shook his head firmly. “I’m not leaving until you stop crying,” he stated. His arms tightened on my waist as he guided me to lay down on my bed with him. His arms were so tight around me that I couldn’t even squirm away an inch. It was nice though. The firm grip he had on me made me feel safe and protected. I stopped struggling and just gave in, scooting even closer to him, pressing my whole body against his as I sobbed on his chest.
I woke in the morning, still tightly wrapped in his arms; I gasped and looked at the clock. 6:20 a.m. “Louis!” I whispered, shaking him.
“Ahh, what, Mom?” he mumbled with his eyes shut.
My heart leapt into my throat. “Shh!” I hissed, quickly covering his mouth before he spoke again. I looked back at the door, waiting for my father to smash the door in and see Louis in our house. I can’t believe we fell asleep, this is so bad.
His eyes snapped open and he looked at me, bewildered. His gaze flicked around my room as he gasped too. “Oh no, did I fall asleep?” he whispered, sitting up and rubbing a hand through his chocolate brown hair, making it stick up at all angles.
“You need to go home. Quickly!” I hissed, grabbing his hand and using all of my might to tug him up to his feet. He nodded with wide eyes and ran to the window, sliding it open and throwing his leg over the windowsill. I watched as he climbed out. When he reached up to close my window for me, I caught his hand and smiled gratefully. “Thanks,” I whispered. I’d genuinely needed that hug last night; that was probably the nicest thing Louis had ever done for me.
He smiled back, his sky blue eyes glittering in the early morning sun. “You’re welcome, Angel.” He slid the window back into place and then turned, jogging across the dew covered grass and disappeared through the hole in the fence between our two properties.
When he appeared again it was to climb back in through his own window. I smiled and sent him a small wave before closing my drapes and breathing out a sigh of relief that he hadn’t been caught. The thought of my father hurting Louis made my stomach hurt. We’d been extremely lucky not to have been caught. I dreaded to think what would have happened if his parents had gone into his room in the night and saw his bed empty, or what would have happened if I hadn’t woken up early. I shuddered at the thought of what my father would do if he had walked in here to find Louis in the house at night-time.
11/10/13