In The End Box Set by Stevens, GJ (read 50 shades of grey .TXT) 📗

dripped with blood and it was obvious he couldn't see properly, his hands reaching for the edge of the windowsill, knocking down cubes of glass to join the rest under my feet.

“Dad,” I shouted and a great smile grew on his face. He turned his leg over the side of the sill and he fell to the road with a great oomph of air.

I rushed over and helped him to his feet. He was blinking more than normal, blood pouring down the side of his face.

“It's okay, baby,” he was saying over and over as he got to his feet, then held his hand against her chest.

Tish seemed to quiet at his words. Her eyes were still dripping wet, the dummy hanging around her collar from the string tied to her top button hole.

I pushed it back in her mouth and she sucked at a furious rate.

“Where's Mum?” Dad said, squinting as he slowly moved his head.

I felt myself gag on the words, tears coming as I did.

“She’s not out yet,” I said, comforting Tish when all I wanted was for someone to do the same for me. “Mum,” I said, my voice strained, an explosion of panic gripping my insides.

Dad's face opened up, his eyes were wide even though I saw it hurt so much. He was looking up to the gap and grabbed up high onto the edge of the sill, but couldn't pull himself to any useful distance. He let his arms drop and streaked blood from his eye across the back of his hand.

A fresh set of screams came from inside. I stood like a statue as he bent at the waist, holding me firm by the shoulders.

I knew what was coming. “No, Dad,” I shouted.

He knelt and patted my shoulders as glass crunched under his knee.

I could smell his alcoholic, metallic breath as he leaned in.

“No, Dad,” I said, whimpering.

“Look after your sister, keep yourselves safe,” he said. “I have to go get Mummy.”

He was gone before I could grab him.

I thought of running after him, chasing him along the side of the coach. Tish had calmed. She was heavy, but I had her tight. She played her fingers through my hair.

Any other time I would have snapped at her to stop, despite knowing she'd still carry on, squealing and laughing. Everything a game.

I said nothing, just backed away with glass scraping under my trainers.

As the gun shots came, I ran.

37

I couldn't see, but still I ran. Swerving to avoid a short wall as it loomed out of the darkness, I kept running until my feet found grass where I slowed and turned to make sure I could still see the white of the coach.

Looking up, the half-moon seemed brighter than I'd ever seen, but still it was such an effort to make out shapes in the darkness.

I'd expected to see people from the coach crowded around; people calling to gather everyone up and making sure we were safe, counting our heads like they did in the playground.

I couldn't see anyone. I was alone. Now I had to be the adult.

Crouching, Tish’s weight seeming to grow in my arms; I leaned back against the stone, hoping it would stop my body from shaking. Her fingers were still moving gently in my hair and I listened to her slow breath, the rhythm of her suck as she comforted herself.

With my free hand I wiped my face, the drip from my eyes was so cold I was scared it would freeze.

I stared at the coach, tucking Tish in closer. Her hand stopped moving, her breathing slowed.

Nothing was moving, but everything was. The breeze in the trees, the bushes swaying. There were no lights coming from inside the coach. No one moving around, that I could tell anyway.

It was good news, wasn't it? Dad would be out soon with his arm over Mum's shoulder. I was ready for her to be hurt, knowing it to be the reason why she hadn't climbed out straight away; the reason she'd stayed behind. It wouldn't have been her choice.

It was nothing to do with what happened yesterday, my little, barely noticeable crime. Not even a crime really; taking a few crisps from the table when I was supposed to be brushing my teeth. No, not that. Couldn't be. And it definitely wasn't the reason Dad had left us to find her. He hadn't chosen Mummy over us. Had he?

He'd gone to get her and if she didn't come, he'd be back out on his own. He would come out of the coach and call our names. He’d open his arms and I'd run toward him, where he'd scoop us both up and take us somewhere safe. Nanny's, maybe? It was a boring place. No comics. Nanny didn't like to have them around. Didn’t like to be reminded of Grandad. Why wouldn't you want to be reminded?

At least it was safe and a long way away, which looked like the best place to be right now.

I think it had been maybe ten minutes or more. Each moment since I'd crouched I thought I would get up, but couldn't, backing out at the last second; each moment expecting sirens and blue lights bright in the distance.

I was freezing, Tish was getting closer and closer. She was cold too, but stayed asleep. Thankfully.

Nothing had changed, no movement. I knew I had to do something. People could die from being out in the cold. Everyone knew.

I stood, took several steps toward the coach and there he was, a dark figure about Dad's height and with his wide, thick chest. I was sure it was his big puffy coat, the one Mum hated because she said it made him look like a teenager.

He was walking a little funny