since eighth grade. → markiplier

Chapter Forty-Six: Feels Like Forever

Chapter Forty-Six: Feels Like Forever

 

Ellie

 

Surprisingly, I am allowed to leave the hospital under the promise that I take it easy. On the car journey home, it is silent and eery, sending the occasional chill down my hunched spine. I hold my legs against my chest and bury my face in my knees, squeezing my eyes shut in desperate hope that this is all just some sick, twisted nightmare.

 

My chest feels like it is on fire due to the sheer amount of pain that I am feeling, but I can’t find it in myself to cry to let any of it out. When we get home, I still have to have the aid of Mark to walk as my stomach is blazing with pain and my legs are weak, leaving me not stable enough to walk by myself.

 

When we get inside, I refuse to go back into Mark’s room and, instead, head back to the room I first slept in. I sink to the floor at the edge of the bed, letting out a heavy sigh that comes out as more of a groan than a breath.

 

Mark, after shoving the blood stained sheets into the wash, joins me without a word. He wraps me in his tight embrace, allowing me to know that I’m not alone. Despite, this, I know that, what I have been thinking about since the moment I woke up and realized that my unborn child needs to happen. I need to leave.

 

“Mark,” I begin softly, catching his attention immediately. “I can’t be here anymore. I have to leave-”

 

“Leave?” He repeats, his eyes widening. “You mean LA?”

 

“I mean this entire country,” I sigh. “I’ll call Bryony or something, I don’t know. I just can’t be here anymore, Mark, you have to understand.”

 

“What?” Mark asks, suddenly becoming frantic. “No! No, no, Ellie, you can’t leave!” He says, his eyebrows upturned. “I..” He chokes for a moment, and pulls his hands to his face. “I cant lose you, too.”

 

“Mark,” My voice is strained. “I can’t be here anymore.”

 

“Why not?” He asks, his voice laced with desperation.

 

“It’s all too much for me,” I tell him, holding my knees even closer to my chest. “And I don’t want to fuck your life up anymore, Mark. You don’t deserve that. I’m sorry. I’ll be gone by tomorrow morning.” I say, letting out a shaky breath as I stand up. I freeze, wanting to scream out in pain as my stomach shocks me with a pain so ripe that my vision flashes white for a moment. I squeeze my eyes shut, balling my hand up into a fist and holding it against my abdomen.

 

“Are you alright?” He asks me, and I let out a deranged laugh.

 

“I just told you I’m leaving,” I say, looking down at him. He looks confused. “Yet you’re still concerned about me? Shouldn’t you hate me? Why don’t you fucking hate me?” I ask him, my hands shaking.