I ran into the step in closet of my room, and curled up in a ball. Please don't let him find me, I prayed as I heard the door to my room open. Mom's new boyfriend was the worst yet. She had to make a quick run back to the hospital, and him and me were left alone, much to my disgust.
"Come out, come out where ever you are." He said in a vicious sing-song voice. I just curled up tighter. He stepped in front of my closet door and knocked on the door. "I just wanna talk Reese." Like I was really going to believe him. He knocked harder. "Reese!"
Frantically, I searched for something that could help me. There wasn't really anything in my closet, I used a dresser, so it was pretty much empty, except for my bookshelf. I blindly grabbed a hardcover, and held it to my chest. Okay, plan, I thought quickly as he practically ripped the door off. Uh...tackle, hit, run? Good enough. I waited for about three seconds before the door was completely off and he was standing right in front of me.
"Hello, Reese." He said in an angry voice before he started for me. At that moment, I ran at his legs, and rammed into his knees with my shoulder. He shouted as he fell to the ground hard, and tried to grab at me, but I batted his hands away with the book. He swiped at my book, and tried to get up. But, I held onto it with both hands and bashed his head once, and he was delayed by the pain. Then, I ran straight out of the house, and into the street. I had no idea where I going, but I didn't dare look back. I couldn't stop running, my mind told my body to stop because it was tired, but my body ignored that suggestion and just kept going.
Suddenly, I arrived at the apartment building that I knew was a safe place. I ran to the door, and pressed the button that buzzed his place several times with a quick pace. After a few minutes, I heard his voice saying, "Alright! Alright! I'm coming." Finally, I he opened the door and was taken by surprise. "Reese? What are you doing here? What's wrong?"
As soon as he had finished talking, I jumped at him, and held him as tight as I could. Wilson hugged me back, backed up a little and closed the door so that we weren't out in the cold November weather. "It's okay, Reese. You're safe. It's okay." He had decided that getting me into his apartment and warmed up was more important that the reason for me being there. So, he carried me up the three flights of stairs, and about halfway up, he noticed that his shoulder was wet. She was crying? Oh God, he thought. Something bad must have happened, she never cries. Wilson had gently placed me on his couch, and looked me straight in the eye. "What happened?"
"Mom's boyfriend tried to touch me." I said to him shaking.
His eyes grew wide. "In what way?"
I sniffled. "The bad way."
His eyes went even wider. "You need to tell me exactly what happened tonight."
"Well, he came over, and they were about to go out, when mom remembered that she forgot something at the hospital. He offered to stay and watch me while she went to go to the hospital, and she thanked him and left. He started off pretty nice, and he was talking to me. Then he touched my cheek; kind of like how he does to mom when he brings her home. I stepped away from him, and he grabbed my arm and pulled me to him. He started to rub his hands on my body, and I ran to my room. I went into my closet, closed the door, and hid in the corner. He came followed me, and ripped off the door to the closet in anger. I grabbed one of my hardcover books, and started hitting him. When I hit him in the head, he fell and, I was just so scared, so I ran here." That was the most I had ever said to him. And I spoke to him quite often, I mean he was my best friend.
I shot up, breathing heavily. Why is it always the same memory? I looked over to the kitchen and looked at the inch tall clock on the stove. Two thirty. Cool, an hour and a half more than I normally get. I got up from the couch, and went over to the cabinet by the television, and opened it, looking for a movie that I could watch to get through the night. I sighed, he had nothing good. I went over to my back pack, and pulled out a stack of Post-Its, and peeled one off. I wrote a little note on it, just in case House woke up and came out in the living room and I wasn't there. Putting my shoes on, I grabbed my coat from the table, and left quietly. The early morning air stung my legs as I walked down the street in a pair of basketball shorts. I don't play, they're just comfortable. I looked at the street sign at the end of the street, and made a left onto Kelley Ave. I wasn't really thinking while I walked, I was just walking. About a half hour later, I saw light hitting the sidewalk in front of me. I turned and saw House in his car, following me. I rolled my eyes, and went over to the passenger's side door.
He rolled down the window, "Went home, be right back?" he said, holding up my note.
I nodded like it didn't need anymore explaining.
"Why?" I snatched the post-it from him, took the pen that I always carried out of my coat pocket, and scribbled another note on it. I handed it back to him. "You have bad taste in movies?" He read, and I nodded. He sighed, and rolled his head to the side, as if making a decision he didn't want to make. "Get in." He unlocked the door, and I reluctantly got in. He continued driving on the road, and we continued not talking. When he pulled up to my house, I quickly got out, and unlocked the door before he could catch up. I didn't shut the door on him, I just went straight into my room, and to one of my bookcases. After the incident, I moved everything out of the closet, and got a second bookcase. The one with books in it, was blocking off the closet; the one full of movies was on the other side of the room with a television and portable DVD player on top of it. I quickly picked seven random movies, and unplugged the DVD player, and put into a sling bag that has faithfully hung on the door knob for about four years. I walked out of my room, and found House standing in the hallway with a manila folder in his hand.
"What's this?" He asked, and he showed my the heading on it, 'The Case Of Reese Cuddy v. Asher Thatch'.
It really wasn't any of his business, but he took the short amount of time I gave him to snoop, so I granted him some leeway. "It's why I don't sleep at night. You can read it, I don't care. It's not going to change anything though." His eyes were wide with surprise. A) That was the most I had ever said to anyone he knew so far, and B) If Cuddy's old 'bf' did anything to hurt his daughter, he was going to kill him. And no, that wasn't just an expression.
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When we got back to House's house (Author: -giggles-), he didn't speak anymore to me, he just went into his room. Not wanting to bother him, I quietly hooked up the DVD player, and put in Little Miss Sunshine. I laid back down on the couch, grabbed the remote that came with the player, and curled up under my blanket. I pressed play, and let the movie start. About thirty minutes into the movie, I heard House come into the living room.
He came over to the side of the couch where my head was, and said, "Move your head." I sat up, and he sat down. I figured, 'what the hell,' and I placed my pillow on his left leg, and laid my head back down. He was a little startled, "This is my couch. My seat."
I grabbed my notepad from the coffee table, and scribbled, "It's my bed."
He read it and scoffed. "It's my leg."
I wrote beneath it, "Well, your leg has become my new pillow. So get over it."
He smirked and let it go. She really is my kid, he thought as he watched the movie. After a while, he started to gently run his fingers down my arm repeatedly. Strangely, I didn't pull away. It wasn't a touch that said, "I'm gonna get in your pants." It was a touch that was comforting, fatherly. It was a touch that said he cared. It felt so nice to have someone care, that I eventually drifted off to a dreamless sleep. It was the first time I had slept more than three hours in a row in nine years.
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At nine that morning, I woke up to stare at a Post-it note that had been attached to my forehead. I peeled it off, and read, "When you wake up, call Lucas and he'll bring you to the hospital. House." I smirked and got off of the couch. I went into my gym bag, and pulled out a set of clothes and my toothbrush and tooth paste. Then, I went into the bathroom, took a shower, got dressed, and brushed my teeth. I ran my fingers through my wet hair before I grabbed my coat and headed out the door. Like I was really going to call Lucas. It only took three hours to walk the eight miles to get here yesterday, and plus I had my ipod, so three hours of my life weren't completely wasted. I turned my ipod on, and put it on shuffle as I began walking to the hospital. I had gone through three songs before I had gotten to an intersection. Like a good civilian, I pushed the walk button, and waited for it to let me cross. When it finally did, I crossed it with about six other people. I was surrounded by people who were walking to a bus, or heading to Starbucks. Everyone had headphones in, either to music or a phone. So none of us noticed when a car started towards us, obviously out of control. None of us noticed the horn honking at us to get out of the way. But all of us felt it when it crashed into us like a bowling ball. Half of us felt the car under us as we rolled over it. I was part of that half. My head was the first thing to hit the pavement. I didn't feel the pain until I had the sudden stop. But the pain didn't last long, maybe ten seconds before I blacked out.
Is it just me, or does this week seem to hate me?
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House was listening to a babbling old woman who was explaining her 'situation' aka her STD. He took a glance at her chart to find out what she actually had, and then looked back up at her. She was still going on. Is it just me, he thought, or does this week seem to hate me? "Look!" he finally stopped her. "You have syphilis! Take penicillin, and it will go away!" The woman seemed stunned, so he took out his pad of paper and wrote her a prescription. "Now you go away!" when she didn't move, he left himself. He was met by tens of people rushing to the clinic.
"Dr. House!" A nurse called him to the ruckus. "We need your help." He limped towards her, and she started to explain everything to him. "A car hit seven people at a cross walk. It was a hit and run. Most of them are fine, but two or three of them passed out and have yet to wake up." They hurried to where the victims were.
"Where are the ones that haven't regained consciousness?" He asked as he saw all of these people that looked like business men and women. Probably so plugged into their own work related world that they didn't notice this car.
"Over here." She led him to a curtained off corner. She pulled it back, and House felt his heart stop. One of the three of them was Reese.
"Take the girl upstairs. I want to keep an eye on her." The nurse, knowing better than to question him, did exactly as he said. On the outside, House looked normal and mostly calm, but on the inside he was crying. He couldn't stand to look at Reese hurt. He couldn't say when, but one time when he let his guard down, she had gotten under his skin, and she planned to stay there.