Caged

37

I listened to the doctors speak to Elijah and Ethan for a while, before I decided to head outside to get some fresh air. After the long day, I needed to be alone for a bit.

They didn't stop me as I walked out of the main entrance of the hospital, and I instantly wrapped my jacket tighter around myself. It was evening now, so it was colder than it was in the morning.

My hair swept past my face as I leaned against the wall, watching the cars drive by on the road next to the hospital, my mind racing with everything that I'd learned.

At first, I'd been stressed by everything. It had been overwhelming as every new day threw something new at me, causing more havoc and chaos in my life.

But now, I felt almost numb to everything. It wasn't a bad type of numb, but the good kind. In an odd way, I felt relaxed as I started to accept everything. I felt calm because I had hope that things would get better and I would see better days. The thought kept me going.

"You want a cigarette?"

I jumped as I snapped my head over to see a boy standing a few feet away from me.

I straightened. "Huh?"

He remained unfazed as he offered me a cigarette with one hand while he used the other to bring his own to his lips.

He looked around my age, maybe a year or so older and I instantly noticed that he was attractive. He had raven black, curly hair paired with a set of sharp, striking eyes that were watching me evenly. He was taller than me too, so I had to look up a bit.

"Do you want a cigarette? You look like you could use it," he said calmly, still holding it out to me.

I processed his words, before shaking my head. "No thanks."

He held my gaze for a few moments before he shrugged and his hand fell away. I watched him warily as he leaned back against the wall, his eyes following the cars that drove past us.

"Did someone die or something? What's with the face?" He asked after a few moments passed and I stared at the stranger in shock.

I quickly looked behind me to make sure that I was the person he was speaking to, before I responded.

"No. Almost though," I replied truthfully, not minding his unusual straightforwardness.

A part of me thought it was strange that he'd randomly approached me and started a conversation, but a different part of me liked it.

He glanced over at me lazily. "Same."

"You or someone else?" I asked, zipping up my jacket as I leaned against the wall next to him.

"Almost lost my friend today. He's in there right now," he told me, bringing the cigarette up to his lips. "What about you?"

"My brother," I responded quietly. He waited in silence and I realized he wanted more. "He got shot."

The boy nodded his head, looking away again. "Poor guy. That shit hurts."

I did a double take. "You've been shot before?"

His lips twitched into an amused smile and I almost considered running away. "Yeah. In the leg. It was an accident though," he paused and glanced over at me again. "What's your name?"

I hesitated before finally answering. "Isabella."

"Any nicknames?"

"Izzy or Iz. Either's fine."

He cocked his head to the side, watching me curiously and I shifted on my feet as I waited for him to tell me his name. "Can I call you Isa?"

I blinked. It was a new one, but I let it go. "Sure. What about you?"