Chapter 2: Beat Up and Broken Down
[Bree's POV]
I could feel myself being moved. The steady voice of Tommy rang in my ears, beating back the silence of my pain, "Do not worry Bree. They can't hurt you now."
Hearing those words comforted me more than I'd like to admit. My breathing was shaky, coming in raspy gasps. I felt as if every bone in my body was broken, torn out then shoved back into me. I didn't know it yet, but Tommy had taken a knife to them and killed all of 'em. Saving me in the process.
The steady thump of his fast paced feet lulled me into a half awake half asleep state of mind. Fading in and out of the pain, it lasted, for what seemed like hours. Finally he slowed down, I guess we came to his house because the voice of a woman called out faintly, "Thomas? What happend? Your covered in blood!"
Tommy didn't say anything. He kept walking. I didn't really know what was happening, but I hoped the pain would subside. It did as I fell head long into a deep sleep.
[Tommy's POV]
I felt her go slack in my arms. I didn't know if she fainted, or if she simply gave up. She had faded in and out the entire trip here, and now.. I just didn't know what to do. Momma was following my up the stairs. I took them two at a time, Momma wouldn't shut up, but I stayed quiet. Finally I reached my room and set her down on the bed.
"Thomas Brown Hewitt, you answer your Momma this instant!" Momma nearly screamed at the top of her lungs.
"She's hurt bad Momma, help her.." I couldn't really answer her. So I fell silent again. Thoughts raced through my mind, Bree moaned slightly from the bed. One of her arms twitched toward her forhead. She had lost a lot of blood and seemed to be in a great deal of pain. I tugged at my now blood stained shirt. Most of it was the boys I had stabbed earlier. Some was my own. The rest of it was Bree's.
Momma had begun to tend to her wounds so I left the room and paced the hall way. All of this had happened to Bree because she stood up for me. She did that when no one else would. All the others were too scared of my face to come anywhere near me.
I felt fear curl up in my belly as time ticked by. An hour. Two. Three. Then a scream. A sharp cry of pain and then another and another. Turning to the bathroom I became violently sick. My friend was in there and she was in pain. All because of me. All my falt. How could I let this happen? Why wasn't she scared of me? Why didn't she run? Why?
It was still a few hours before Momma finally came out. I rushed over to her, a look of, 'Is she okay?' on my face. She nodded, and put her one finger to her lips. Quiet. Thats all. I rushed into my room and saw her on my bed. Blood stained the blankets, her breathing is shallow and a look of pain echoing mine on her face. I whispered to her, "Why did you protect me? You could have been killed!"
Anger and pain filled my hushed whisper. I fell silent as she stirrled a little. I grasped her hand and she settled back into her pained sleep. Silence filled the house again. I hummed the song my mother would sing to me. The Hush Little Baby Lullaby. Her breathing became a little easier. Not by much, but still, enough to notice.