Intensity

I woke up to someone pounding on the door, and Patrick yelling.

This was strange to hear because I had never heard him raise his voice. He had always spoken so soft and well; I guess the only word that I can think of is velvety. Just so smooth. It was always so comforting. Everything about him just seemed so comforting.

It wasn’t the same Patrick that I had met weeks ago. And he was definitely not the deranged lunatic that Cullen had made him out to be. Out of the days that I have been with him, he hadn’t killed a single soul. I think it’s mostly because of Cullen that he has been on his best behavior, but in all honesty I’m not sure.

Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I raise my arms up in the air and let out a loud moan. Pushing myself off the bed, I make my way toward the loud noise, not thinking anything of it. Being around this family you tended to hear a lot of screaming and a lot of arguing.

But before I could put my hand on the doors that lead into the next room, someone is shoved into it. causing the door to shake violently. Quickly I jumped back, my eyes widening as I realized that this wasn’t just some family fight. Normally they didn’t get violent. Only Cullen and Patrick ever got violent. But Patrick had this way about him that he could always avoid Cullen’s advances. No matter where we were, somehow Patrick had always got away from Cullen.

Anxiously, I moved toward the door again. I had an uneasy feeling in my stomach. The shouting had stopped, and I no longer heard Patrick. I didn’t know why it bothered me so much. I had really never heard him be quiet. When he was his body was always close to mine, so that I knew that he was right there next to me.

Slowly, I turned the door knob, and opened the door. Peering out into the large open living room, my eyes widened even more. The living room was a mess. Plants were smashed onto the floor, the pots broken and the dirt scattered on the hard wood floors. The windows smashed and the TV; it looked like someone had been thrown into it. Looking toward the floor by the bedroom doors, I dropped to the ground. Patrick was lying on the floor; his face bloodied and cut up. Instantly, I felt myself start to panic. Looking around the room in terror, I take in the surroundings once again, looking for an intruder. Or the intruder that had done this.

Hastily I grabbed Patrick by his shirt and started to drag him into his room. I didn’t know what was going on and I felt goose bumps on my neck just standing out in the open with the main room destroyed. And I swear I could feel someone watching me. Unlocking the other bedroom door, I opened both doors giving me enough room to pull him to safety. Or what I considered safety. It was safer than whatever could have done this to him. Out of all the time that I had spent with him, there was one thing that I knew about Patrick. It was that he was strong. And fast. Ungodly fast. And that was probably because… because of whatever the hell he and Cullen were. It was frightening to see him lying motionless in a pool of his own blood.

Leaving a trail of his blood behind him, I swiftly shut the doors, but not before I saw a shadow move quickly across the apartment and toward the door. Panic flooded through me as I slammed the doors shut and twisted the locks into place. Within seconds, whatever I had seen was against the door, its hands or whatever slamming into the door making the doors shake.

Shrieking, I jumped back and fell over the body that I had just drug into the room. Lying against Patrick’s bloody body, I could see the outline of the person’s feet against the door. But for some reason, some amazing reason the door held against the pounding. Rolling over Patrick, I started to shake him. He had to wake up. I could feel tears prick at my eyes as his head lolled from side to side.

“Patrick! Patrick!” I whimpered, as I continued shaking him. “Wake up, please.”

Leaning down, I put my forehead against his, closing my eyes. I could feel the tears building. It would only be a matter of moments before they would start to fall. At least he wouldn’t get mad at me for crying. I had a legit reason this time.

It was so strange. I never would have thought I would be so worried. I had fantasied about Cullen coming and taking me away. Rescuing me. But right then all I could think about was Patrick waking up, so he could protect me from whatever the hell that thing was that had done this to him.

Inhaling deeply, I took in his scent. I could still faintly smell it; the smell of copper was strong. But his cologne still seeped through. The smell of Armani drifted to my nose, and I let out a sigh. It was his signature smell. I was faintly sure that it was one of the reasons I was so attracted to him. It was probably also because of the way he looked. He was more beautiful than Cullen. His hair curly, high cheekbones with a straight nose. But you could barely see it beneath all of the blood. Scrunching my nose, I reached for a shirt that had been discarded on the floor. Tenderly, I wiped the blood away making sure not to press too hard on the large gashes that covered his face and body.

Out of nowhere, a deafening noise sounded from the living room. Looking up, I looked at the doors too afraid to go near them and also not wanting to leave Patrick's body. Shaking, I pulled him closer to me. Sounds of breaking glass and people physically fighting seeped through the cracks of the door frame. The noises lasted temporarily, and were followed by rapid knock against the door.

“Patrick! Son!” a voice called.

Looking down at the unmoving person below me, I slowly stood making my way cautiously toward the door. My heart pounding from adrenaline, I unlocked the door.

The moment the click sounded, two people rushed through the door throwing me to the ground. My eyes widened at the two figures that I recognized to be Cullen’s two uncle's, both rushing to Patrick’s beat up body. One of them kneeling on the floor, while shouting orders to the other. Pulling myself to my feet once again I cleared my throat, catching their attention. The one taking directions, stopped in mid step and stared at me, while the one who I guessed was his father turned his red eyes toward me.

I really hoped he would wake up soon.