Chapter 18: Chapter 18

"I hate her." I repeat, my eyes stinging from the intensity of my tears. Dad places an arm around me, shifting uncomfortably in the hospital seats. He gently pulls me towards him and I rest my head against his shoulder. He usually smells fresh, like soap, however the scent of ash lingers around him. It constantly reminds me of Leroy and I can't stop picturing his sweet innocent face.

"I tried so hard Trish. I ran in there and tried so hard to find him." Dad whispers, his voice hoarse. I pull back and study his features, his eyes drawn in and glum.

"I know Dad, you're amazing. Really." I say quietly, taking his hand and squeezing it gently. I can feel the guilt seeping out of him and it breaks my heart. It isn't his fault.

"Please don't blame yourself. You did everything you could do." I say quietly. He breathes in sharply, his body trembling as he exhales again.

"When the fire fighters walked out with him in their arms, I lost my shit Trish. I thought he was dead." Dad choked out, a single tear slipping from his eye and running down his cheek. The vision of Leroy's limp body flashes through my mind and I shudder, focusing on my breathing. It feels like a band is wrapped around my lungs, squeezing them tightly until it's impossible to breathe.

"I should have been home for you both. I should never have left you two."

"Dad, you were working. It's Mum's job to look after us and she failed. You didn't know what was going on, it's okay." I comfort him. A small part of me feels like he's right. Dad always chose work over his family but the other part of me knew the reason why. He grew up living a poor lifestyle and wanted the best for his children. I couldn't bring myself to tell him about Mum's cheating, not now. His entire life was already falling apart and I couldn't be the one to break it further. It killed me having to keep it a secret but I wanted to protect my Dad, just like he tried to protect us tonight.

"It's going to be a long wait, isn't it?" I murmur, the sun beginning to rise outside the hospital windows. Even though a new day was beginning to start, I felt stuck in the day before. I couldn't stop replaying the nights events over and over again inside my head. It was like a horror movie refusing to pause or end.

"Yeah sweetheart, it is. Try and get some sleep." He responds, letting me lean on him further. I nod my head and close my eyes, desperately wanting to block out the images for at least a few hours.

*****

The hospital door opens and I finally see him.

His little body is wrapped up in several bandages from the head down. Numerous wires are attached to him and his eyes are closed as he sleeps. I take a step inside, my chest heaving with pain.

"Oh Leroy," I whisper, heading for his bedside. I reach for his hand but that too is bandaged up tightly and I wonder how bad the burns are underneath them. Instead, I reach out, carefully running my fingers down the tufts of his hair. He stirs slightly but doesn't wake and I lean forward, inhaling his scent. In that moment, an overwhelming feeling of guilt fills me. I should have been there for him.

Instead, I was out getting drunk to forget about my own troubles.

"I'm so sorry," I sniffle, the beeps steady around me. I can't stand seeing him look so vulnerable, relying on wires and bandages to keep him alive.

"You're going to be okay Leroy. I swear it." I say firmly, tears brimming my eyes. I blink them back incase he can hear me. I want him to know I'm being strong. He doesn't need to hear me crying from his pain.

Why is it that the most precious, innocent lives end up hurt the most? He deserves so much better.

A knock on the door pulls me away from my thoughts and I turn to find a woman who appears to be in her late thirties. She has dark curly shoulder length hair and she's clutching a clipboard. Her eyes land on Leroy before drifting over to me --

"Mrs Lockwood?"

I shake my head, sniffling.

"I'm her daughter." I correct her, clearing my throat. I hastily reach up and wipe at my eyes. She walks inside, closing the door behind her softly.

"Can I speak to your Mum?" She asks me gently, her eyebrows creased in confusion. She isn't dressed like a nurse or doctor.

"She isn't here. I don't know where she is." I say bluntly, my words truthful. How is anything more important than being by her son's bedside right now? Looking at her face disgusted me and I'm glad she got into her car, driving away. I couldn't stand to be in the same room as her.

"Okay, do you know where your father is?" She asks a little tightly and I nod my head, turning to look back at Leroy.

"He went to get some coffee. He'll be back soon."

"Okay, I'll wait outside." She says quietly, pulling open the door. I turn to face her quickly before she can leave --

"Who are you?"

My question causes her to pause, her gaze flickering between me and Leroy. A bad feeling settles inside my stomach and I shakily stand on my feet.

"I'm from Social Services Child Protection."

My heart drops to the pit of my stomach and I stare back at her, unable to speak. Social services.

"You're going to take Leroy away from us, aren't you?" I say, my voice rising with panic. She inhales deeply, shaking her head.

"No, I really need to speak to your father before we can make a decision."

I see the guilt flash through her eyes, her words aren't truthful. I grit my teeth, my hands clenched into tight fists by my side.

"You can't take him! He's my little brother!" I yell at her, angry tears filling my eyes. I turn back to look at Leroy, all of the memories we shared together. I won't allow anyone to take him away from me.

"We haven't decided anything yet. I really have to speak to your father." She says firmly, speaking in monotone. Dad appears behind her in that moment, a confused look on his face at our new company.

"I'm right here, who are you?" He asks, his voice exhausted. He walks in and hands me the coffee, the confusion never once leaving his face. I clutch the coffee tightly, feeling the warmth of it seep through my hand.

"D-Dad." I say croakily, my throat rough from crying endlessly. He turns towards me and I can see how clueless he is. He doesn't realise the woman standing in front of us can tear our entire family apart.

"She's from Social Services." I tell him, watching as his entire face crumples in frustration and pain. He slowly turns towards her and she drops her eyes to the floor, avoiding eye contact.

"I really need to speak to you Mr Lockwood."

Moments of silence pass and the only sounds in the room are the machines beeping. The atmosphere grows thick, thick enough to slice straight through with a knife. No-one says anything but eventually Dad speaks.

"Okay."

One word.

One word that's full of defeat.

"Outside please, Mr Lockwood."

She exits the room and Dad follows her closely behind, his head hung in despair. I watch them both leave, the fear inside of my stomach growing until it becomes unbearable.