Ella Claire Gainsborough {Beauty} (bookshelved) wrote in bellumlogs, @ 2010-02-22 12:49:00 |
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Entry tags: | beauty, black forest witch |
Who: Ella, Vaughn
What: Sisterly intervention
Where: The coffee shop near the publishing house
When: Noon (after this)
Warnings: Vaughn being Vaughn
Ella hadn't slept at all the night before.
She'd called her father early in the morning, and she'd asked him a million questions about Vaughn, a million questions she knew the answers to already, but that she needed to hear again.
That Vaughn's mother drank like a fish (which was something coming from him), that the woman treated the little girl like a cursed thing one day and like a precious jewel the next. You could never depend on Vaughn's mother's moods, and that's why he'd ultimately left. The same behavior could bring a beating one day and a hug the next, and Ella knew that Vaughn had no chance in that sort of environment.
Her own mother hit, yes, with her hand or with whatever else was handy, but her emotions didn't go up and down like the mountains and valleys of Appalachia. Ella's mother was always unhappy - a constant. Her father was always drunk - a constant.
She couldn't imagine Vaughn's childhood. She hated her father for leaving the girl alone with a woman who was clearly insane. She hated him more than she hated him always turning away when her mother hit her.
She knew Vaughn wasn't well, and she didn't doubt anything Vlad or Rosalie or Daniel said about the woman. She knew her sister needed help, knew that she needed to be somewhere she couldn't hurt anyone while she got the help that she needed.
It didn't make her feel any better about what she was going to do.
When her lunch hour came around, she sent a forum message to Vlad and Shane. She shut down her computer, and she told her boss that she needed the afternoon off. And then she walked to the police department and informed them that her sister was a danger to herself and to others.
She knew they'd investigate, knew they had to by law - she'd called and asked first - and she told them she was meeting her sister in fifteen minutes. The bruises and scrapes on her face helped to convince them there was something wrong, and she didn't divest them of their misconceptions.
The officer and paramedic that accompanied her stayed out of sight (or so she thought), and she sat at a high-top at the coffee shop, fingers tapping nervously on the tabletop as she waited.