**
"She said I don't know if I've ever been good enough."
From "Push" - Matchbox 20
**
There were -- finally -- faint rays of light peeking over the horizon. They were a brilliant white against the still starry sky. The light began to spread and turn to gold in moments. It streaked the few clouds that graced the horizon with shades from ivory to scarlet. I could see the faint reflection of lake water from where I sat.
I was wrapped securely in a heavy blanket, and leaning sideways against Lucky's large window. The window had a particularly large sill, and faced east, to the sunrise. My cheek was pressed against the windowpane.
When the rising sun sent flames of crimson into the sky, they reflected off of the lake water. The sight turned my stomach. It was a giant pool of blood.
Blood everywhere.
The vision that disgusted me so was gone in seconds, as the orange orb finally burst completely over the horizon. My eyes were still seeing the awful sight until tears finally blocked off my vision completely.
Would the bitter thoughts that plagued me never go away?
Tears slipped unceasingly down my face. I rubbed them away with the back of my hand, then the corner of the blanket. Movement in the reflection of the window caught my attention.
I turned to face the door that seemed to be opening by itself. Then Lucky's face appeared around the edge. His expression was surprised, like he had expected me to be sleeping. When he found to be up and awake, he stepped into the room.
"Hey," he said softly. "I just wanted to check on you -- I thought you'd still be sleeping."
I shook my head.
"Do you want to come downstairs and get some breakfast? My dad is down there cooking right now," he offered. A hopeful smile had settled on his face.
I unfolded my legs from underneath me and very carefully stood up, Lucky's blanket around my shoulders. My legs protested painfully.
"I need to be getting home," I said, inserting a note of coldness in my voice.
Lucky didn't blink. "Breakfast first," he said in a voice that brooked no argument. "After that, we'll see."
I opened my mouth to protest but Lucky cut me off.
"Come on, Elizabeth." He reached out and tried to slide his arm around my shoulders. I shied away from his touch. He hid his hurt well, but I still saw a flicker of it, before he got his mask on securely. "Come on, " he repeated and proceeded out of the room. I had no choice but to follow.
On our way down the stairs, I chided myself behind Lucky's back for being so silly. This was LUCKY for goodness sake. Why didn't I want him to touch me?
My mind went back a few short hours to when he had bathed me. His touch had been so tender, and yet, so impersonal. Lucky had seen me at my most vulnerable time.
My thoughts were interrupted when my feet hit the bottom stair. Lucky looked back at me once. He didn't say a word, and I couldn't read his gaze. He continued leading me into the kitchen.
I passed through the doorway and the heavy smell of bacon grease hit me in the face. Luke was leaning over a skillet on the stove. He turned briefly when Lucky and I entered and gave me a smile.
"Good morning, Sweetheart," he greeted.
I paled.
"Dad," Lucky warned. I caught hold of the edge of the table and lowered myself in one of the chairs. Lucky took the one next to me. "Do you want some orange juice? Apple juice? Water?" Lucky asked.
A familiar scent was faintly detectable beneath the smell of bacon. "Is there coffee?" I hinted a bit hesitantly.
Luke nodded to the coffeepot on a side counter without turning from his frying pan. "Cowboy, get the little lady some Java, will you?"
Lucky jumped up to follow his father's order. In seconds, I had a steaming mug placed in my hands. I inhaled the pungent aroma and a ghost of a smile tilted my lips.
"Sugar or milk?" Lucky's voice again.
I didn't even look up. "Just black."
"Watch out, it's pretty strong stuff," Luke cautioned, finally appearing at the table, with a plate of bacon and one of scrambled eggs that I hadn't noticed him scrambling.
I took a sip and rolled the bitter liquid around my mouth. I watched Lucky walk back around the table, passing behind Luke, who patted him on the back. The action aroused my curiosity. What exactly HAD Lucky told his dad last night? The thought of my shameful secret being spread made me tremble. I choked on a mouthful of my coffee. I found I could no longer look Luke in the eye.
Luke held the platter of bacon in front of my face.
"I- I'm not very hungry -- I need -- I just want to go home and crawl into my own bed." I stood on shaking legs and forced my body into a run from the room.
I heard a muffled curse and the sound of footsteps pounding up the stairs after me.
"Elizabeth!" Lucky's voice gasped behind me.
"Please -- don't!"
He caught my upper arm and whirled me to a stop and to face him.
"Let me go!" I screamed into his face. I ignored the biting pain from my arm, where he was pressing on my bruises.
"Not until you tell me why you just ran out on breakfast." His voice was amazingly calm, because he was breathing hard and something was flashing in his eyes.
"I don't want to talk to you!"
He looked like he wanted to shake me, he was that frustrated.
"Elizabeth, you have to talk to SOMEBODY. Let me be that somebody."
End chapter seven.