~~Carson's POV~~
We got to Amelia's bustling with a measure of hope but what it took for all of it to go up in smoke was a measly couple of seconds.
"She's been like that since last night," her mom beside me spoke, her voice muffled with dejection.
We'd been standing in Amelia's room for almost two minutes now but not once did she budge in her position. She was a few paces away, sitting on a wooden chair with her kneels curled up to her chin and her hands wrapped around her legs as she stared out the window in oblivion.
"I…" Her voice cracked, followed by sniffles that pulled my attention to her. Head inclined backward; palm heels pressed against both eyes; the tussle against her tears was pretty intense.
"I'm…I'm sorry." She whimpered, sniffles cutting through at intervals, with her face still buried in her palms. With a glide across her face, she unburied it. "I…I know I shouldn't be…" She managed to speak up again, but her composure was only ephemeral as her eyes welled up in seconds, prompting her to shut them again, her lips pressed in a thin line while liquid trails seeped through the shut eyelids. Yieldingly, she went off in a hurry with her palm over her lips when her sobs abruptly gained volume.
With fallen shoulders and a shallow sigh, I swerved back to Amelia. I knew I could not totally understand how they felt but one thing was certain – both mother and child were in an abysmal shape. Despite all the sounds we made, she remained glued to a spot. Naturally, the child's condition would not leave its mom unplagued. Mrs. Davies herself looked like she hadn't slept properly for weeks now. Her eyes were puffy, and the bags underneath although slightly shrouded with a concealer, were pretty obvious. She looked distraught and the reason was of course not far-fetched.
Getting lost in the sorry view ahead of me….
This scenario was familiar. The memory of Ashley throwing a fit and being held on to by her mom to mollify, still stood tall in my head. Ashley's episodes demanded we sometimes knock her out entirely to return her to normalcy. It got to the point where other people's presence was galling, thus the reason for banning visits. Yeah, her episodes were dreadful.
Amelia appeared a lot calmer than the former. No doubt, the duo had distinct responses to their unfortunate ordeals, but the aftermath was one and the same; the agony they now had to live with was equally heartrending. I may not have been close to Amelia, but Ashley's experience earned me a measure of insight. Watching the woman I dearly loved from a close range was equally throbbing.
Just what joy could this psychotic imp derive from plunging others into the depths of depression? What kind of a deranged person could he be to effortlessly drive others to misery? Irrespective of how much I studied about those mentally unstable people, I could never understand them completely. Yes, quite a number could be suffering mentally, having a medical condition. But no! There was no excuse for being such a menace to the society.
The sudden stinging pain I felt in my palms snapped my train of thoughts. Instinctively, I raised my palms up to my face only to see how red they became, trails of my fingernails imbedded within. Shrouded with gut-wrenching thoughts all along, I didn't realize how fiercely I balled my palms into fists.
Subconsciously letting Daniil loom in my head, I made a staunch resolve to make him pay, now seething with rage. I however managed a charade, my visage seemingly normal as I strode down the hallway leading to the living room.
"Carson." Griffin who for some reason had his eyes affixed to the entrance was the first to notice me emerge. Her sobbing mom on raising her head to me, wiped away her tears and straightened up on the sofa. Sawyer on the other hand who sat by her on the chair's arm as he gave shoulder rubs to provide solace, raised his head to me as well and got up. And just like that, I was trapped within three pairs of eyes.
If this was how depressing the air around here was, then it was pointless trying to visualize what shape the Donovan's would be in. Being the sufferers of the direct blow; their pain would simply be unfathomable.
"What did the doctors say?" I asked, inclining my head downward to the sitting figure.
"They said she was good to go. There's nothing left for them to do. At this point, we will need a therapist." I strained to hear as her voice was steeped in distress, insanely low as a result. Quite understandable.
With my head tilted to the side and a raised brow, I signaled an 'and?', effectively asking her to go on.
She shook her head softly before burying her gaze in her fiddling fingers. "We don't the resources for that," she admitted low-pitched.
Sighs emerged from three points in the room in response. Now this was gonna be an issue. It was imperative Amelia got the needed help and fast; she wasn't going to remain in blue funks forever.
"My husband has returned to New York to see how much we can raise for her to carry on treatment," she proceeded to say, keeping her head buried. "I'm sorry she cannot be of much help."
"What do we do?" Sawyer mouthed to me. I swayed my eyes to the side, taking a brief look at Griffin before returning them to the woman.
I covered our distance and crouched to her eye level, placing one knee on the floor. "Ma'am," I called placidly.
"Your daughter will get help," I assured, staring unwaveringly into her light brown eyes. Beautiful, but appeared worn-out.
"But for that…," Ripping our stares, I trailed my hand until they rested comfortably around hers, encasing them warmly. "You need to help yourself first," reuniting our stares, I reached my point. I wasn't sure of where and how Amelia's help will surface, but I was certain what this woman needed now more than anything else was a sound sleep. Her eyes were terrifying if I must put brusquely.
"You need to rest, ma'am," I clarified to abate the crinkles resting on her brows, and she sighed. She probably knew what shape she was in but could not help it.
"Amelia no longer sleeps at night," she shared, holding her fatigued eyes in focus. "I always want to be there for her. How can I sleep knowing she's wide awake and cannot shut her eyes in a slumber?"
It went off as slight twitches between her brows before evolving into a blatant writhe that landed her entire face in sad scowl, her eyes welled up and in no time, she broke into another round of wailing. "I just want to be there for her!" she managed to speak through the tears, her voice breaking intermittently.
Letting my emotions run me over, I pushed myself upward before wrapping her in a compassionate embrace. Responsively, I felt her hand go around my back as she crossed her chin over my shoulder.
The depressed sighs floating in the air around me coupled chiefly with her weeping directly in my ears fueled me with grief laced with fury. Gritting my enclosed shuddering teeth, I was earnestly fighting back my tears.
It struck me like an arrow when she mentioned Amelia's insomnia. Her words hit me like snowballs in the summer. More than ever, I itched to fish out the demented psychotic whackjob responsible, and end this whole misery with my bullet boring a large hole through his brain.
I took this personal because somehow, it was related to Ashley. For some reason, I was mostly reminded of her today and that also spiked my heavy emotions.
. . .
It took a while, but eventually through combined efforts, we managed to assuage her nerves. Now, all four of us sat down for a hearty talk.
"I'm sorry you all waited for this but she can't be of help to you," she said in a low voice.
"Ummm," Pressing my knees and shuffling between their views, I stressed to whet their appetite for what I was about to say. "About that, I think I know who can help."
'Who?!' all six eyes whipped in my direction bombarded.