Even though my body was craving for sleep, I just couldn't make my eyes close. Because if I did, then I would see my mothers face. The fire brought back horrible memories. It was soo dark out here; I've always hated the dark. Everyone was pretty much asleep; I got up and noticed that I was limping on my left ankle.
"You need to rest that." Luke put his arm around me; he led me to a tree and carefully sitting me down. He began genteelly moving his hands over my ankle, checking to see the damage.
"So what's the problem doc?" I joked. His hands felt warm against my foot, making my skin tingle under his touch. He looked up at me with those blue eyes meeting my own. Something happened, with just one look. We both gasped looking away. Luke got up to move, but I found myself grabbing his hand.
"I don't want to be alone." I whispered. "The fire. It reminds me of my mum. I was alone then." I felt his hand tighten, then he sat beside me.
"What happened to her Ellie. It's like you close off your past. Whenever someone mentioned anything their family, you I don't know." Luke told me.
"You want to here my story?" I asked, not meeting his face. His finger lifted my chin so he could see me.
"I can see the pain in your eyes." He spoke softly to me. This was another side of Luke, and for some reason I wanted to know it.
"One year ago. There was a fire." I began touching my stomach were my tattoo was. "Our house was on fire, we don't know how it happened. Dad wasn't even there, no idea what was happening. They said I was lucky to be alive, when I woke up in the hospital. Mum, she. She didn't make it."
"Ellie, I'm sorry that must have being awful for you." Luke wrapped his arm around, I lent it to his safe warm body.
"Dad couldn't forgive himself for not being there. He started drinking to hide his grief. The passed few months I was the one looking after him. Uncle B, erm well Bradley. He was mums younger brother, really young." I smiled at the end. "He tried his best, but I've ended up doing everything."
"Guess that explains why you're looking after us all." He joked but he looked serious.
"I haven't cried once. Not when they told me about my mum. Not at her funeral. Not when I was sorting though her things. Not even now." I whispered at the end.
"Not even when you looked though photographs?" He sounded surprised.
"Not a single tear."