Post by Christian Connolly on Dec 21, 2011 7:59:22 GMT -5
(Just wanted to finish off this episode before I started on the PPV piece. I couldn't fit it into the last RP.)
IV - Danielle
"So how was school?" Danielle asked as Trisha tossed her bookbag into the backseat of the car, next to Alicia, and hopped in.
"Same as always," Trisha shrugged. She was her usual cheery, sweet-natured self during the days. It was only at night time, when the sun went down, that she seemed to become haunted by her kidnapping. Danielle had wanted the police called, and she even called them herself despite Christian telling her it wouldn’t do any good. In the end, it turned out he was right. They told Danielle they’d "look into it," but they didn’t seem very interested in actually finding out what was going on.
"And how are things with Jamie?" Danielle’s eyes danced.
"He’s the same as always too," sighed Trisha. She’d told Danielle already that she’d had her first kiss with him not long after the kidnapping. It was a big deal to her, and that made Danielle smile - she was so much like Tameika in so many ways. In all her life, Tameika had only kissed one man. There was something so sweet about that in Danielle’s mind - something so pure.
"Does he need a ride home?" asked Danielle, just before pulling out onto the street.
"Debate team stuff," Trisha shrugged.
They drove for some time in silence before, finally, Danielle turned to her tight-lipped. "Christian and I were talking, Trisha," she began, "and we think maybe it’d be best for you to get some kind of counseling. You know, after what happened."
"I don’t need any counseling," Trisha replied dismissively. "I’m fine."
"You’re not fine, Trisha," Danielle said softly. "I know you’re not fine. You’re kidnapped."
"I don’t want to talk about it, Danielle," Trisha sighed.
"You have to talk about it sometime. It’s not healthy for you to keep this bottled up. I know that you’re scared at night, and..."
Trisha’s eyes snapped on her with such hurt in them that Danielle stopped mid-sentence. "I’m fine," she said, more than a little pleadingly, and then she turned back to her window.
She saw her father’s truck in the driveway all the way from the opposite end of the street. Her heart leapt immediately into her throat, and she could tell that Trisha noticed it as well. They didn’t say a word about it though. Instead, Trisha just got Alicia out of the car, and then, with her big sister, walked toward the door. Danielle wasn’t sure what to expect when she got inside - Christian’s temper was violent and uncontrollable, and he’d never much liked her father, who had never been one to hold his tongue.
But when she entered, she found Christian sitting at the kitchen table, flipping through a wrestling magazine that he, surreally was on the cover of. His eyes slowly moved up to them under the cover of a blink, and then he gestured to the living room, where apparently their father waited.
Danielle watched as Trisha let go of Alicia’s end and take a deep breath, gathering her strength. Danielle started to follow her toward the livingroom, but Trisha stopped in her tracks, turned around, and shook her head. "Let me do this," she said in a soft voice that belied the strength in the girl.
"Alright," replied Danielle. It was obvious their father was there to bring Trisha home - he didn’t even know Danielle was staying there. When she was gone, Trisha turned to Christian with narrowed eyes. "When did he get here?"
"A few hours ago," replied her brother-in-law, whose anger was obviously boiling just beneath his skin. On some level, Danielle was impressed that he’d been able to hold his temper. She’d seen it unleashed more than once, and she knew how hard it was for him to control - not that that was any excuse. "We haven’t really said much to each other."
"Why is there a cigarette on the floor!?" Trisha chirped loud enough for them to hear. Danielle thought she saw a hint of a smile on Christian’s face.
"He wants to take her home," said Christian as he pulled his daughter onto his lap. She amused herself by looking at photographs of her father in the magazine. He flipped a page once when she came to a particular photograph that depicted him bloodied and leaning over the ropes of the ring.
"That’s kind of obvious," replied Danielle as she took a seat across from him.
"Do you think she’ll go?"
"Do you want her to go?" Danielle raised her eyebrow with the question. Months ago, when she had first dropped Trisha off at Christian’s door, he had protested.
But now he shook his head. "I really don’t," he said with a sighed smirk.
"It’s nice having people around, isn’t it?" Danielle smiled.
And then her brother-in-law, all two hundred and thirty pounds of him - a monster of a man if ever there had been one - conceded with a nod. She’d seen him give beatings and take beatings in the ring until both he and his opponent were left bloodied and battered. Christian Connolly was made of nails - but even he didn’t want to be alone.
"She’s not going anywhere, Christian," Danielle assured him. "And neither am I." She sighed and turned toward the living room, where Trisha’s muffled voice was chirping as usual. "He had his chance, Christian. Tameika never screwed things up the way he did. And that means you’re our family now."
"So how was school?" Danielle asked as Trisha tossed her bookbag into the backseat of the car, next to Alicia, and hopped in.
"Same as always," Trisha shrugged. She was her usual cheery, sweet-natured self during the days. It was only at night time, when the sun went down, that she seemed to become haunted by her kidnapping. Danielle had wanted the police called, and she even called them herself despite Christian telling her it wouldn’t do any good. In the end, it turned out he was right. They told Danielle they’d "look into it," but they didn’t seem very interested in actually finding out what was going on.
"And how are things with Jamie?" Danielle’s eyes danced.
"He’s the same as always too," sighed Trisha. She’d told Danielle already that she’d had her first kiss with him not long after the kidnapping. It was a big deal to her, and that made Danielle smile - she was so much like Tameika in so many ways. In all her life, Tameika had only kissed one man. There was something so sweet about that in Danielle’s mind - something so pure.
"Does he need a ride home?" asked Danielle, just before pulling out onto the street.
"Debate team stuff," Trisha shrugged.
They drove for some time in silence before, finally, Danielle turned to her tight-lipped. "Christian and I were talking, Trisha," she began, "and we think maybe it’d be best for you to get some kind of counseling. You know, after what happened."
"I don’t need any counseling," Trisha replied dismissively. "I’m fine."
"You’re not fine, Trisha," Danielle said softly. "I know you’re not fine. You’re kidnapped."
"I don’t want to talk about it, Danielle," Trisha sighed.
"You have to talk about it sometime. It’s not healthy for you to keep this bottled up. I know that you’re scared at night, and..."
Trisha’s eyes snapped on her with such hurt in them that Danielle stopped mid-sentence. "I’m fine," she said, more than a little pleadingly, and then she turned back to her window.
She saw her father’s truck in the driveway all the way from the opposite end of the street. Her heart leapt immediately into her throat, and she could tell that Trisha noticed it as well. They didn’t say a word about it though. Instead, Trisha just got Alicia out of the car, and then, with her big sister, walked toward the door. Danielle wasn’t sure what to expect when she got inside - Christian’s temper was violent and uncontrollable, and he’d never much liked her father, who had never been one to hold his tongue.
But when she entered, she found Christian sitting at the kitchen table, flipping through a wrestling magazine that he, surreally was on the cover of. His eyes slowly moved up to them under the cover of a blink, and then he gestured to the living room, where apparently their father waited.
Danielle watched as Trisha let go of Alicia’s end and take a deep breath, gathering her strength. Danielle started to follow her toward the livingroom, but Trisha stopped in her tracks, turned around, and shook her head. "Let me do this," she said in a soft voice that belied the strength in the girl.
"Alright," replied Danielle. It was obvious their father was there to bring Trisha home - he didn’t even know Danielle was staying there. When she was gone, Trisha turned to Christian with narrowed eyes. "When did he get here?"
"A few hours ago," replied her brother-in-law, whose anger was obviously boiling just beneath his skin. On some level, Danielle was impressed that he’d been able to hold his temper. She’d seen it unleashed more than once, and she knew how hard it was for him to control - not that that was any excuse. "We haven’t really said much to each other."
"Why is there a cigarette on the floor!?" Trisha chirped loud enough for them to hear. Danielle thought she saw a hint of a smile on Christian’s face.
"He wants to take her home," said Christian as he pulled his daughter onto his lap. She amused herself by looking at photographs of her father in the magazine. He flipped a page once when she came to a particular photograph that depicted him bloodied and leaning over the ropes of the ring.
"That’s kind of obvious," replied Danielle as she took a seat across from him.
"Do you think she’ll go?"
"Do you want her to go?" Danielle raised her eyebrow with the question. Months ago, when she had first dropped Trisha off at Christian’s door, he had protested.
But now he shook his head. "I really don’t," he said with a sighed smirk.
"It’s nice having people around, isn’t it?" Danielle smiled.
And then her brother-in-law, all two hundred and thirty pounds of him - a monster of a man if ever there had been one - conceded with a nod. She’d seen him give beatings and take beatings in the ring until both he and his opponent were left bloodied and battered. Christian Connolly was made of nails - but even he didn’t want to be alone.
"She’s not going anywhere, Christian," Danielle assured him. "And neither am I." She sighed and turned toward the living room, where Trisha’s muffled voice was chirping as usual. "He had his chance, Christian. Tameika never screwed things up the way he did. And that means you’re our family now."