You're My Last Hope (Under Edit)

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

I looked down at the slip of paper in my hand, rereading and rereading the note over an over agin.

"Call me sometime, okay cutie? xx ;)"

We were driving back to the concert, Taylor and I listening to Therapy by All Time Low. I had my phone in my hand and the piece of paper in the other. Taylor kept urging me to text her, but I didn't. It felt weird. The only numbers that I had in my phone were Anthony's, Taylor's, Katie's (I don't even bother texting her anymore though.) mom's, and mom's work. Five numbers, really four. Anna seemed like a nice person, but she'd find out about my secrets and leave. I've already told Anthony two, and that was two to many. I knew that I could trust him, but I was so used to being hurt that I was too scared to. I didn't need anyone either way. I had my blade. It could get me through life. Or it could end it....

I shook my head. 'No. Not those thoughts. Not right now.' I thought to myself.

"Kellin are you not gonna text her?" Taylor asks. I shrug.

"Why not?" I look over at him. His head was resting on my shoulder and he was looking up at me with sleepy eyes. He cuddled deeper into my side, letting out a yawn. I moved my arms and put one around him, allowing him to get more comfortable. I shrug again.

"I don't know. I don't see why she'd be interested in me anyways. Might as well save us both the trouble." I answer, knowing it was the truth.

"But she does. I mean it was obvious she's at least a little bit interested." Taylor yawns. I sigh.

"Just go to sleep." I whisper to him. It was late, around eleven. I only had about five or six hours of rest I could get before I had to go back home. Emily was already asleep in the front seat next to Anthony.

"I can't though." Taylor whispers back.

"Why?" He looked down.

"I'm insomniac...." he trailed off. I automatically felt sympathy for him on that. I was too. Sometimes, dad would beat me so hard that I wasn't conscious enough to not be able to go to sleep but other nights I stay up for hours, just trying to get an hour of rest. I shifted to where I was facing him and pulled him closer, running my fingers through his hair like mom does for me. I don't know what it was about it, but, besides Max being beside me, it was the only way I could get sleep. He closes his eyes, but I could tell he wasn't asleep.

"Just relax. Think about something happy." He nods and relaxes, or at least tries. After maybe ten minutes, he drifted off into a light sleep. He looked at peace when he was. There was a smile smile playing on his lips, making me guess the dream he was having was good.

I felt his phone, which was on my leg, vibrate. I looked down, seeing he had a message. It read; "Hey babe you up? Xx" I'm guessing it was from Sam. Mainly because of the name Sam with hearts around it at the top of the message box. I smiled at it. It was adorable. I looked back down at him to make sure he was still asleep which he was.

"But you don't know what it's like

to wake up in the middle of the night

scared in the thoughts of kissing razors." I closed my eyes, listening to Vic's voice. Somewhere in the time period, I drifted into sleep. Which, in my case, was bad.

Blood. There was blood everywhere. On the walls, on the floor, on the ceiling, all over me and all over Max. Dad held him up by his shirt, a bloody knife in his hand. He had made three deep, long gashes on Max's chest because he, being the big brother he is, pushed me out of he way when dad was beating me. I was glad he did, but I also wasn't. Dad was hurting him. Bad.

He dropped Max to the ground, dropping the knife beside him. He must've decided that making me watch him beat Max was enough of a punishment. I hope. He could be going to get something else to use to torture us. My seven year old self crawled over to Max.

"Max wake up. Max please wake up." I said, shaking him. He moaned.

"N-no...."

"Max please wake up I'm scared!" I whimpered, looking around to see if dad had came back. He moaned again and opened his eyes.

"K-K-Kells?" he whispered, looking down at his chest then at me. After a moment, he asked, "It's past your bedtime isn't it?"

I nodded. It was 9:00. My bedtime was 8:30. He stood up slowly then picked me up, walking slowly to our room, letting out whimpers every now and then that scared me.

When we got to our room, he laid me down on the bed, collapsing beside me. I cuddled into his side.

"Goodnight Max. I love you." I whisper to him.

"Night Kellybear. I love you too"

My eyes snapped open, I was sweating and shaking a bit. That was one of my many nightmares. It wasn't as bad as the rest, but it was still bad.

I was only seven when that happened. Now that I look back at it, I noticed how much pain it must've caused him to stand up and walk, let alone do both and carry me. It made me feel bad because I made him do that. Even though I didn't ask.

I missed him so much. He wasn't gone, he was still in a coma, but he has been for seven years; he's not likely to wake up anytime soon. Mom's been considering taking him off life support because she barely made enough money to play the bill and buy food and alcohol for dad. If he doesn't wake up in about two months, well probably have to take him off of it. That means that the little chance of me keeping my brother is almost gone.

"Hey Kel wake up Taylor. We're here." I looked up and saw that we were at their house.

"Hey Tay. Wake up. We're home." I whisper. His eyes slowly opened to look up at me. He yawned and closed his eyes again, snuggling closer to me. It killed me to wake him up, since I knew he had insomnia and I knew how often you could get a nice rest with it. I sighed and unbuckled him, unbuckling myself after. I slid out of the car, careful not to wake him. After I was out, I leaned down, picking him up. He barely weighed eighty pounds by my guess. I wasn't very strong, but I could carry him as easily as I carry mom and that's about how much she weighed.

"Kellin?...." Taylor mumbles, looking up at me sleepily.

"Shh just go back to sleep buddy." I whisper. He lays his head back on my chest and yawns, nodding. I walked up to his room, laying him carefully on the bed and pulling the covers over him. I walked to my bag that was laying on the floor, getting out my tooth brush, a pair of sweatpants and a plain, black T-shirt. I walked to the bathroom, closing the door and locking it behind me. I quickly brushed my teeth then take off my shirt and jeans. I looked at the full length mirror, wrinkling up my nose. I was skinny, or at least other people thought I was. I could almost count all my ribs. Mom always worries about me not getting enough food but it didn't really bother me. I looked at my cuts, sighing deeply. I picked up my jeans, picking out the razor. I couldn't have nightmares. I don't need to wake Taylor up.

I quickly roll up my sleeve and take off Anthony's bandages, then reopen two of my old cuts, letting them bleed a bit, until I felt lightheaded, them stopped the blood with some tissue paper. I threw it away after I stopped all the blood. After, I quietly turn off the lights in the bathroom and walk over to Taylor's bed, getting in with him and letting him cuddle into my side. It seemed to take forever but, finally, I relaxed into a light sleep with Taylor laying beside me.