Okay, so those of you that saw the facebook post with the last names... Walsh's last name is POMME so he is not on the list. If you have no idea what this even means... nevermind :) 

A/n: Not Thoroughly Edited. 

Chapter 11 – Trainwreck (Kalenah Conrad POV) Pt. 2

Each moment Faith has spent with us inside our home, her home - or at least I'd like to think she thought it was her home but I knew that it was unlikely - I saw first-hand signs of just how troubled her captor had made her with his brainwashing. Her lack of eating, nervousness, social cues and jokes that she just didn't get. I saw it all, I knew that she was fighting her own nature.

 Respecting that she hadn't wanted anyone to know the truth, keeping it inside as though she had some shame to carry and hide, Ansel and I had yet to divulge details. Telling them even less than Walsh and Patricia had told the school, they all seemed receptive to the idea of her coming to live with us since the dorm was destroyed.

It was hard to watch, painful for me to see her second-guessing everything, isolating herself, because being around others was difficult - paralyzing for her even. Then because the burn wasn't enough, she injured her foot as well, an accident but nonetheless she ran and the next morning, I learn she was injured - and badly so - requiring stitches.

Now, though, after a few calm days, waiting for the plumber to fix our pipes my mind was only on Faith.

It had only been a few days so I was in no way giving up or discouraged by her lack of trust in us, I knew it wouldn't be easy but the more I observed her, the more I realized how crippling her fear was. I found myself hugging myself, hugging my children, showing my love to them, for them, and Faith left and right. I couldn't show her the love I wanted, a mother's unconditional love. I knew for sure that it would only frighten her and leave her suspicious of my motives but I continued being kind, being consistent, open and direct.

Ordering take-out, I ordered soup for Faith and Talia, while getting Pizza for the rest of us, Ansel bringing it home. Entering with our children, when Samson was heading to change up in his room, I requested that he tell Faith to come down for some soup, having sent her many texts - none being replied too, I was sure she was probably asleep.

I was wrong.

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Samson Conrad POV

Distracted I sat during lunch with Thaddeus, Devin, Taylor, Caterina, Harleigh, Paige and Javier, my mind now solely focused on our new houseguest.

Although house-guest wasn't exactly how Harleigh, Paige, Caterina, Talia, Thaddeus, Brennan and my parents saw Fatima, her title ran from little sister to new daughter. Yet there was something odd that I could not understand, she was a total enigma to me actually. The way she was just as opened as she was closed off. She seemed to have isolated herself, coming out during the night when she believed us all to be sleeping, and a part of me wondered if I was the cause.

I hadn't meant to snap at her that first day in class, it was that day, though. The same day as when we lost Silas, but now I guess it was the day that we thankfully hadn't lost Talia as well and for that a cloud of guilt and shame followed me like a rain cloud.

"Samson! Samson!" Taylor - Javier's little sister - called me pulling me from my momentary stupor. "Did you hear what I asked you?" she asked but I only shook my head. I had more interest in what Fatima had revealed to me about her parents not existing. It was shocking – but not her admittance, it was the way she just texted the message as though it were no big deal. I knew that when it came to parents I had won the lottery, but what could be so much more important than your child being nearly burned? Why had not one of them come to see how Fatima was? She was amazing and brave and... it made more sense that they did not exist then they didn't care for their child.

In my head, lost in unending questions, it takes Taylor moving her hand in front of my face with a light hand flick, to gather my attention as she proceeded to ask again, "I said, since Faith isn't going to be in school for another week, maybe Dr. Farmer would let us work together, the three of us, that way we get to work together and your grade won't suffer because Faith's not really in class-" I shook my head before she even finished.

It had been a few days but whenever I did notice whenever Taylor was around at the house Fatima did not come down during the night. I did not want to make Fatima any more uncomfortable in her home, so I instantly shake my head, "She's already done all the catch-up work and we have our idea planned out already for the project," I said and my siblings as well as Taylors all watched me in silence. "Yeah... but we always work together," she added on.

I nodded, it was true, we did all spend time with each other, the Rosario's and Miller were always at our house, and our parents had been close friends and still were. Javier was dating Talia, and Brennan was dating Devin. We all jammed together, playing and saving our earnings to build a home studio.

But Taylor specifically and I, when placed in the same classes, we always tried to work together, that way none of the students could get close to me.

Working with Taylor was safe; she kept the others away while still being someone that I could get along with. When I glanced over at Harleigh, her face down, trying to hide a smirk, I turned back to Taylor, "I want to work with Fatima, she has some good ideas and plus it'll be easier for her... we live in the same house," again it was the truth. While I had some outlandish idea of what we could do for our physics' project Fatima had one just as outlandish but with actual notes that we would be able to get it done.

"Oh... okay," Taylor replied with a small smile, I turned back to the rest of the table watching this like we were having some kind of tennis match, and as I filled my mouth I remembered my earlier plans.

"Also, can you catch a ride with someone else, Fatima naps from four until the next morning, I want to catch her before that so we can talk about our project," I added, jumping from my seat, just before the bell rang.

All of us standing heading off in different directions...

During my classes, I sat taking notes while the larger part of my attention was focused on Fatima for some reason. I knew my siblings thought she hide in her room all the time, but I knew that she came out during the night, surely Harleigh and Thaddeus knew as well and perhaps my mom. No one knew about her parents, though, and I sure wasn't going to tell them and betray her trust.

Fatima behaved oddly, but no one spoke about it, so neither did I. Unlike my siblings that tended to shy away from Fatima, I liked catching her alone at night, seeking her out when she was alone, the two of us talking and giving me time to watch all of her reactions, it was easy and entertaining because while Fatima currently couldn't speak, her facial expressions were just that - expressive. There was a part of her that appeared broken somehow but every so often, Fatima's eyes took in the world before her and there was a lightness, she wasn't so guarded.

Still, something didn't quite fit correctly when it came to Fatima, her reactions, the way she seemed to like to be alone, which was something I wasn't used too. Not only did I have many siblings, the girls were always together, with other friends, going out, watching movies, staying in, sleepovers in one another's room, trying and trading clothing, everything - Fatima on the other hand, when in the room with us, her shoulders were stuck up to her chin and the look in her eye. Fear. Plus, she reeked of anxiety.

Her brows were always pushed together and she eyed everything, all our reactions, and our conversations as though it was the first time she was hearing it at all. Experiencing it all. Much like Amy and Simon.

So getting home, eager to work on our project, I nod when mom tells me to get Fatima to let her know dinners ready. Taking a quick shower, with a change of clothes, I grab a few books I had picked up from the school library for our project before I head to Faith's room. Hands filled, I knock, waiting for some type of answer but I hear nothing coming from her room even after taking a moment to listen. Knocking twice more and even calling out to Fatima, there is still no reply, so nervously, unsure, I try the knob slowly turning it, I push the door open a bit.

Sticking my head in I note that she's not on her bed. Opening the door a bit more and entering Fatima's personal space I announce myself, just to warn her, "Hey Fatima, it's Samson," I hear nothing still.

"Uhm, dinners ready and I brought some books for our project," I say as I lower the books onto her desk and the slight movement from me laying them on her desk brings her MacBook to life, no password, not locked. I'm not snooping but at first my eyes widen when I notice that she has over twenty tabs opened, each one about Stockholm Syndrome.

My face scrunches up, why would she be looking at that many websites? Does she think or believe that our family is holding her hostage? Surely, no...

Blinking confused, my mouth dropped open, I pull my eyes away from the screen wondering why she'd have that many tabs open with that topic, especially when I was the one to gather her homework trying to make up for my unkind behavior when we first met. She had no assignment that would require her to search for that.

When I inhale, the repugnant scent of vomit hits me full force, my stomach quiet strong, still turns but otherwise I have no other reaction unlike - well Silas. My heart swells and feels as though it's being squeezed as I'm hit by an overwhelming wave of guilt, my blood running ice cold.

Not. The. Time.

Shaking my head, I take a few more steps into her room, passing the sofa turning my head towards the bathroom "Hey Fatima... are you sick? It kind of smells like vomit in here," I roll my eyes, of course she would know that, her olfactory system wasn't injured in the fire or when I majorly screwed up forgetting mom's instructions not to light the stove around Fatima.

But still, I wonder if mom knows Fatima was sick? Taking another step I knock against the wall, before turning and stumbling back at the sight in her bathroom. Though I'm stunned, my mind goes into overdrive, "Mom! Daddy! Hurry!" I shout unsure what to do when I see Fatima on the floor of her bathroom, blood stained on the toilet, the scent of vomit thicker. "Mom! Mom!" I shout and my feet move forward of their own accord, but I'm unsure on what I should do right now. How do I help her? The light pooling of blood dried against porcelain and the tiled bathroom floor. Still uncertain how to help, mom and dad coming storming in, alarmed at the state in which I've found Fatima as well.

"Hasn't she been through enough?" my mother mutters under her breath, and that catches my attention - my mind trying to place everything together. Her parents not existing, her frightened animal reactions to everything around her, the broken look in her eyes and now... the twenty Stockholm Syndrome tabs Fatima had opened on her computer. Every one of the details I've gathered over the last month starts turning, the gears in my head trying to put together the puzzle that was the girl passed out on the bathroom floor. My eyes fly to my fathers, whose face goes serious, then blank, and that is all I need - more than enough really - to let me know that my mom isn't just speaking about the fire and Faith's foot.

"I thought she was taking a nap - call Trevor," my mother tells my father who is behind her, though dad already has his phone to his ear. 

"Oh Faith," my mom whispers, ignoring the blood and vomit, and me I assume until she turns to me, "Samson can you go down and bring me some water?" the soft tone mom just had a bit harsher now as she instructions not looking at me, her hand on Fatima, while dad speaks to uncle Trevor.

When Dad nods his head for me to get going, I pull out of my stupor to leave the bathroom, but dad grabs my hands, "let everyone know not to come up to this floor," his eyes firm, his voice hoarse but still with so much control and authority I nod and go after one more glance at Fatima.

As I hurry down the stairs, going for the basin my mom used when one of us were sick, I moved in a trance, my thoughts elsewhere. My mind was wrapped up in ideas of the girl upstairs, every detail pointing towards a singular fact. 

There was so much more to this girl than mom and dad had told us.

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© 2016 roxann_season All Rights Reserved

So there you have it... what did you guys think?

With Samson, this time, around I've made a few changes to him here because he came off like such a jerk in the first version and now, I feel like showing that there is more to him... what do you guys think? 

Don't forget to vote, comment and share if you liked it :)

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Also... for those that know what I mean when I say this... I'm thinking of writing Elixir... but I'd only be sending it to those following my newsletter (from my website: roxannseason.com). Sending it as a PDF file to those who subscribe... if they're interested that is.