Page 130 of The Breaking Pointe
her tail like a maniac.
I stand up again, looking around more to see if there’s any more destruction.
“Yo! Cole!” Trey yells, walking past the kitchen, crunch- ing through assorted glass.
The house is completely silent.Not one noise can be heard except for us, trudging down the hall.
“Colton?”I call loudly as Trey goes into his room.
I leave Trey behind and walk further down the hall, seeing a different kind of glass on the floor, trailing outside the bathroom along with droppings of red.
“Please…” I whisper, creeping towards the bathroom en- trance, stepping on shards as I do.The shards become bigger, and so do the droppings, leading me to a pulverized mirror, its scattered debris in front of the sink. The droppings are pretty much dry—and randomly spread around.So are a multitude of tiny white pills.Some crushed, and some whole. Some are covered with the darkened, red muck.
“Trey, come here—now!”I call him.
He comes running up behind me, reporting to the scene at max speed.
“Look.”I point, feeling my throat tighten up.
“Don’t trip out yet,” he tries to assure me, even though he sounds frightened himself. “Art studio,” he adds, turning around and rushing there.
I go after him, and he slowly opens the door. A tornado.
That’s what you would think had rolled through the room. Almost every sculpture, portrait, ceramic, piece—all destroyed. Every easel—broken. Everything he hadworked for years to create—demolished.
Scanning the room of the mess, we find him sitting against a wall, fast asleep.
I skip over different parts of broken items until I reach him, dropping to my knees. Trey comes behind me, kneeling to his other side.
“Colton,” I say, cupping his cheek and running a thumb along more of the red stain. Glancing down at his hands, I find all of the cuts and the culprit for the mess.
His eyelids twitch before tightening as he groans. “Cole, wake up for us, bro,” Trey says, patting his chest gently.
Colton groans again, bumping my hand as he tries to touch his face, fluttering his eyes open.
“Hi, honey,” I whisper, blinking some tears away from my eyes, letting them fall down my face.
He looks at both of us, backing away, but being stopped by the wall.
“It’sokay—it’sjustus,”Treysays.
Cole looks at his hands, then us, then behind us, Shock washes over his face.
“W-WhatdidIdo?”Hisvoicecracks.
“Don’t worry about that right now.”Trey shakes his head. “Yeah, you’re okay. We should get you to bed. You need to
rest more.” I lightly dust his shoulder before squeezing it. “I’ll get him up,” Trey says. “Just clear a path for us.”
I nod, standing up and doing as told, as Trey lifts him from the floor and helps him.They both follow my clear path until we exit the room and go to his bedroom. Trey then sits him on the bed, and Colton conforms into a ball, sinking into the mattress like mud.
I drop my bag and struggle to pull my coat sleeves down both arms, hanging it up once I do.
Trey wisps past me, walking out again, making a bit of noise in another room. I unzip my boots, kicking them off and run a hand through my hair as I walk to the bed, crawling into it, beside him. As I do, I pull the blanket folded on the chest at the foot of the bed along with me, placing it over him.
“Okay, have him take this,” Trey says as he walks back to him, holding out some pills, a bottle of water, and Nyquil.
“What are these?” I ask, taking the pills into my hand. “Extras of his anxiety medication.That’s what’s all over
