Blood Bond

I sprung up and put a hand to my forehead, wiping away the sweat that had formed. My eyes focused and I looked around: the room was almost pitch-black, but the kitchen light was on and provided some light. I looked beside me and saw Daryl was talking in his sleep and wincing a lot. I began to worry and removed his arm from me so I could go get him some water.

I stumbled to the kitchen and to the water cooler. I grabbed a water bottle and pushed the button. When nothing came out I panicked and shuffled through the cupboards, looking for bottled water. I accidentally knocked over a glass cup, but I'd pick it up later. Daryl needed help, not the floor. I went through all of the cupboards, but there wasn’t any. Then I remembered how my father had a mini-fridge in his room. I scurried across the marble floor and ran into the table, knocking off glass bowls and more cups, but I kept going.

I ran up the stairs as fast as I could and managed to creak open the door. Taking a deep breath, I tiptoed to the fridge. I opened it and luckily the light wasn’t working. I grabbed three bottles—just in case—and closed it. I carefully closed the bedroom door behind me and let out a sigh of relief. I heard Daryl still talking in his sleep from the top of the stairs and turned around again to make sure I didn’t wake my dad. The door was still open a little, but not that much. I started walking down the stairs and felt a cold hand crash down on my shoulder. I whipped around and froze.

"Trying to give your Daddy a bad headache, are we?" Father asked impatiently.

"No! I had to get some water for Daryl because he’s having trouble sleeping! I didn’t mean to wake you!" I pleaded.

"What about breaking my glass dishes? And running into things? And why is there a boy here? I certainly haven’t seen you’re brother!" he said, his voice rising.

"I didn’t mean to—We just fell asleep watching TV! We were out looking for Kyle! I swear!" I was on the verge of crying.

"Daryl, eh? Hasn’t he spent the past few nights here? Where’s his family anyway?" I tried to speak, but he glared. "Or are you his family? Did he get you pregnant? That’s all you’re good for, just like your mother!"

"Daddy, please! I’m sorry!" The tears finally escaped and I started bawling.

"Pathetic. So pathetic. Go cry to Daryl, not me. You’re the spitting image of that whore."

The next thing I knew I was thrown down the stairs. I heard a sickening crack and it took everything I had not to scream. I just lied there on the floor. I heard "Daddy" go back to sleep and I stood up to find what that crack was, but not because of the pain—no, the pain was bearable—but because of how it looked. Daryl didn't deserve to have to look at the awkward angle it was bent at. I picked up a water bottle with my left hand, knowing my right arm was broken. I was also sure that my face was bruised. I wondered how I looked as I sat on the couch still crying.

"Daryl. Please wake up. Please," I begged, shaking him lightly after dropping the water bottle.

His eyes started twitching and eventually fluttered open. At first he smiled, but I guess he saw the bruises.

"Tonia? W—what happened to you?" He tried to hug me, but it hurt my arm too much and I kind of shrieked and pulled back. He grimaced.

"I’m so sorry. Don't look at m-me. You d-don't need to lay your gor-gorgeous eyes on me...It’s just that—that I thought you were having a n-nightmare s-s-so I...here," I forced out, giving him the water bottle. I was still shaking and crying. I wiped the tears away with my unbroken arm and he also saw I was crying and how red my eyes were.

"Baby…Please tell me what’s wrong."

"…I fell…down the stairs," I lied. If I said my dad did it, he would kill me. Daryl gave me an uneasy look and shook his head slowly. He looked down and a few minutes later he looked at me again.

"No. No you didn’t." He said softly and I nodded.

He kept shaking his head, not saying anything just like mom…and Judy. He was disappointed? That was too much and I burst out crying again. He looked at me, startled, and almost hugged me, but thought better of it. He stood up and walked into the kitchen. I tried to see what he was doing, but couldn’t, so I waited. Eventually he came back and I saw that he had a cloth. I looked questionably at him. He sat down and patted the seat next to him. I walked over and sat.

"Give me your arm," he commanded.

I picked it up and put it in his lap. He gingerly picked it up and put it on the cloth. I realized what he was doing when he tied it around my neck. I smiled and kissed his cheek. He had cocked an eyebrow and had put a hand gently under my chin and kissed me softly. "Better?" I nodded. "Good. Now let’s go back to sleep." He smiled and wrapped his arms around me.

He lied down and kissed me saying, "Good night."

"I think I—I love you," I whispered softly in his ear and this time I knew I wouldn't regret it. I meant every word of it. He smiled and held me tighter.

"I love you and I will always love you, Tonia," he whispered back. "Now go to sleep or I might do something I’ll regret." I nodded and fell asleep.