Little Bird

Chapter Three

Ivy-

A racing heart chasing an even faster mind. I don't remember when I started running through the streets. Minutes blend with the sensation of my legs burning as I dash down the sidewalk. My chest burns and this sensation of panic and helplessness disturbs me without mercy. I couldn't get myself to stop running, till I felt a sharp pain in my legs. The feeling drives me to stubble forward and crash into the brick of a building. My body is not able to get air into my lungs, and the world spins till my vision eventually goes black.

Warmth was the first feeling as I came to my senses. My eyes were sensitive and blurry, forcing me to blink through the blur as I looked around. A nurse walks over and says something to me, the words are distant and shapeless. "Do you know your name?" My eyes shifted to her and I muttered in a distracted voice. "Ivy white." She lets out a breath and holds a clipboard, "Ivy, you have a visitor" Freezing at her words as she says visitor, my mind races, and I shiver as she turns to exit the room. Watching the door as somebody enters the room, I shiver and feel alarm fill my entire body, not certain what will happen next. I looked up at his face and froze, the world ceasing for an instant. Dean, the man from the grocery store, the man who walked with me. How, why was he here?

Blinking my eyes slowly at him as he stared at me on the hospital bed, his eyes holding a glimpse of worry. "Calm down you don't look good." His voice was careful and calm, it drove me to want to listen to his words. I nodded my head as my eyes observed him carefully. "I found out what happened, and I came here." I didn't know how to respond to that information, my mind filled with questions. Why would this stranger care about me? How did he figure out I was here? Where is Marcus right now? "How much do you know about me?" I asked him in a worried tone. His eyes were so blue and warm, I'd never seen such a docile gaze. "Enough." His words echoed in my ears, making me feel less like I was sure of the situation. I sat up on the bed and looked down at the IV in my hand. "I'm a nobody," I said in a low voice, almost like I was trying to persuade him not to be here.

The nurse peeks into the room and says to me, "Someone else is here to see you, your boyfriend? Marcus" A chill went down my spine and I looked at her with a panicked gaze. "Please don't let him in." My voice broke, and I felt my chest heave, I was starting to have a panic attack. Dean watches my interaction with the nurse, trying to comprehend the situation. He looks at me, studying my face, his eyes dragging down to my jaw and neck. Like he saw something on me that I was yet to notice. The nurse spoke in a faint tone like she was telling the room a secret. "Does he hurt you, Ivy?" My eyes widened at her words, and I felt like the world was crashing down around me. Hot tears slide down my cheeks as I looked down at my lap, and nod slightly.

Dean-

Anger is a sensation, a feeling when greedy businessmen lie to me. A deal falls through and I lose my money. Gangs shoot people on the street in cold blood. When a young lady, I grew an interest in having bruises on her jaw and neck. It burns stronger in me when I hear the name of the man who did this to her. She was looking down at her lap crying silently like it was her fault this happened to her. My feet ushered me over to the hospital bed, my hands aching to touch her shoulder. To offer her comfort and keep her close to me. I spoke up in a gentle voice, "It's not your fault, Ivy." She didn't respond to me as she cried. Watching her stare at her lap and cry as the nurse goes, makes my heart hurt. My hand reached forward and touched her jaw, sliding across the bruise. I feel her flinch at my touch, her eyes dart over to me. She looked uncertain of my actions, "Why did he give you these bruises?" My fingers shifted to her neck and I pressed against the purple skin. Shifting away from my touch she spoke in an unsteady voice, "I don't want to talk about it." A frown formed on my face and I nodded slowly.

A police officer walked into the room holding a notepad. My eyes scanned over him. Throughout my life, me and law enforcement never seemed to get along. He walks over to the two of us and speaks firmly, "Ivy white, correct." Her head turns and looks at the police officer. Her eyes and cheeks were red from crying. She reaches up and rubs her nose with her hand and sniffles, "Yes," she says, her voice small. That voice was so soft and perfect, that I found myself glimpsing at her as the police officer spoke. "The police station will need you for questioning in a few days. Do you have a place to stay?" Her eyes darted to his and she shook her head. Feeling my heartache at her demeanor, she was the same as a small cat backed into a corner. "She can stay with me." My voice was quick and firm as I spoke to the police officer. Taking a second to realize my own words, she is staying with me.

The police officer looks me over as if trying to understand who I am to her. The man looked back at her to see if this statement bothered her. Her pale green eyes were on me, her eyes were trying to read me. Scanning over mine slowly before shifting down to her lap. She never said anything, no "thank you" or questions. And, for the first moment in my life, I realized I couldn't read her. She reminded me of myself, silent and blank like a page with no ink to interpret. The police officer left the room and I gazed down at her sitting on the bed before speaking. "I assumed you didn't have anywhere to stay." She looked over at me and spoke in a sharp tone that caught me off guard. "Why are you helping me?" My heart sped up at her tense words, a new side of her I'd never witnessed. The more I observed and spoke to this girl, the more I wanted to keep her around.