Invisible

It took a while to calm Corrie down. When she had finally stopped sobbing she had a headache, so I gave her a brownie and two Tylenol and turned on the tv in my room to That 70s Show. Pretty soon we're both laughing.

During a commercial brake Corrie looks at me and says, "You're right. Talking about it makes me feel better."

I kiss her on the forehead and retrieve my phone.

mate, ur ex is bringing down some shit From Alec. But I don't care because Corrie's mine now, and thats all that matters. The only thing raining on my parade is Corrie's dumbass father.

I'm in turmoil on the inside because of that. Who the hell could ever, ever intentionally hurt Corrie? She was just so small and... Innocent. No fucking wonder she is so messed up. Poor baby. My baby now.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Corrie murmurs, curled up beside me. I squeaze her shoulders.

"Alec texted me and said Kaylee was causing trouble."

"Well she can get over herself because you're mine now," she says softly.

"Forever, angel."

She smiles and lays her head on my chest. The show comes back on. Were silent.

"I don't have any clothes," she whispers.

"We can buy you new clothes."

"No, Dad's gone, we can just go in and grab my stuff."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." She sits up. "Come on, before Dad gets off work."

I kiss her gently.

The drive to her house, old house, is excrutiatingly long, and unbareably short at the same time. We pull in at the driveway and sit there. Then Corrie shudders.

"Want me to come with you?"

She nodds.

Corrie's house smells like smoke and booze. Theres trash and crap everwhere. Corrie forges through, staring at her feet, and her room is a pleasant relief. Its empty and neat. Corrie pulls a bag out of her closet and crosses to her tiny chest of drawers and begins pulling clothes out. She empties her drawers. I wander over to the otherside of her room, where a single small bookshelf rested. There was a row of tattered books, and at the end of the shelf, a stack of sketchbooks and notebooks. On top is a clear case full of colored pencils all worn to the nubs, old markers, and mechanical pencils. I find another bag and sweep all of that stuff into it. Corrie is now bent in the closet, holding a tattered cardboard box, her bag of clothes on her bed pitifully small.

In the closet are a few old dresses on hangers, she takes none. They all look probably to small, even for her tiny self. "Can you go into my bathroom and grab the basket under the sink?" She asks, her voice dead.

I do as she says. All the stuff she's taking is on her bed. Three full bags, none to big, the tattered cardboard box, and the basket full of hair stuff, make-up, other things. She looks like she can't breath. I hold my arms out and she melts into my chest. I kiss her on the forehead.

Then a car door slams outside and we both stiffen. "Oh fuck," Corrie whispers, her voice full of horror.

"CORRIE?" A man yells.

"Grab my stuff!" She hisses, taking the cardboard box, and one of the bags. I take the other two and the basket, and she rushes me out the back door just as the front door slams.

We both run back around to mothers car and I unlock it. She throws her stuff into the backseat, and I follow her, but before I can open the driver side door, the front door to the house opens again. In it stands a man with thuroughly grey hair, messily dressed, and completely plastered.

"Great," she mutters. "He got fired. Get in the car."

"Corrinne!" Her dad yells. "What the fuck?"

"Corrie I can't get out," I say quietly. His drunk driving has his car completely blocking the driveway.

"Drive through the yard!" She half-yells, diving into the car.

"Where do you think you're going?" Mr. Monroe yells, tottering outside with surprising speed for one so drunk. I fumble with the door handle, and he slaps Corrie hard, and she hits the hood of my car.

"Stay the hell away from her!" I yell, diving around the car and tackling him off of her. He has her by the hair, even if she's fighting. All three of us go down and Corrie screams out in pain.

I punch him as hard as I possibly can, braking his nose. He must release Corrie, because I hear her scrambling back. "AARON, the car!" She screams.

Being drunk doesn't help fighting skills. I manage to get off of him and get in the car before he gets up, and I'm sorely tempted to run him over. As it is, he slams his hands on the hood of the car. "Get the fuck out of that car, Corrinne!"

I reverse, narrowly missing his own battered car. He topples over, but he's still yelling. "You think he'll take care of you? No one fucking loves a bitch like you! Dirty whore! He just wants a fuck!"

I drive out of the neighborhood so fast I'm in danger of killing someone. I don't even slow down until I come to a screeching halt in the driveway, seething.

Corrie's just sitting lifelessly in the seat.

"That son of a bitch!" I yell, I guess to Corrie. "I can't believe that bastard actually hit you! i swear Corrie, please let me call the cops, oh please?"

"Why are you so angry?" She asks.

"Because, like I said earlier, I care about your wellfare. Now get your stuff." I help her bring her things upstairs. "Just let me get rid of Ashton's stuff. He moved it into the big guest room. Or was it Alec?"

Her face red as, quite literally, a tomato, Corrie says, "I don't want to make him move."

I look at her. "Well you aren't sleeping in the loft, and they can get the hell over it."

She's staring away from me. "Forget it, I-"

Oh! I grin. "I'm so stupid, come on, I've got extra drawers in my room."

Mom was going to be pissed, but oh well.

Corrie folds all her clothes neatly into the open drawers in my room. There's a total of six, plus closet space, but she only takes up two and a half of the smaller ones, the cardboard box now under my bed, the bag full of books sitting in front of her section of drawers.

"We really need to go shopping, angel," I say.

"I'm fine, really-"

"Yeah, but now you've got a rich boyfriend, so don't complain."

She smiles. "You sure you don't mind me staying in here?"

"Not even a little bit, though Mom might. How do you feel, Corrie?"

"Better than I have in a long time," she says, grinning.