Burned Ones

Chapter 15

Cameron.
16 years old.

I think I finally hated my dad, which was an astonishing accomplishment on his part, given how much he'd put me through in the past. Like the obedient little soldier I was, I came back every time, eager to do whatever else he asked. This life took away my mother yet up until this day, I couldn't say that I hated my dad without feeling guilty because he was my parent; he was my only parent I still had. I felt obligated to listen to him, to love him, and I had been afraid not to.

My skin was on fire. The blood had soaked through my shirt but I'd run out of the house with Annabeth and Finn in too much of a panic to change. I had grabbed my jacket near the front door on my way out so that was something, but not much. It hurt too much to zip it closed because it was more pressure on my chest and the wind was strong tonight, blowing my jacket wide open almost the entire walk to the hospital. The wind cooled my chest but any time I passed someone on the street, I held my jacket a little closer to me. When I did that, my skin seemed to buzz, hyper aware of how close my jacket was, hurting preemptively.

Finn said he had burn cream but I didn't know how to care for something like this and what supplies were needed in the long run. The doctors offices were closed and they would likely ask too many questions and need to do an exam. I just wanted to talk to a nurse or someone that knew an inkling of what I might need. I couldn't look it up at my house because my dad would see.

I should have been able to ask my dad. I should have felt comfortable asking my dad for help but I didn't.

We needed to leave. We should have left months ago.

On my walk, I called Alex and told him not to come home and that I'd find him soon. He said he was at a friend's house. By friend, he meant some other kid in the gang because my dad wouldn't have let him go to someone else's house. Everyone we were allowed to associate with was in the gang. I couldn't remember any normal friends I had growing up. Finn might've been the first one.

I didn't want to ruin Alex's night if he was having fun. Whatever he was doing right now was probably a lot better than what I was doing. He deserved at least one night. I gave myself that pep talk the rest of the walk to stop myself from calling Alex back and telling him to find a car to pick me up in.

After blocks of walking, a bus ride, and more walking, I stood outside the covered entrance to the hospital in the next town over. It was dark and fluorescent lights lined the walkway. It was quieter than I pictured it. A lot of the spillover patients from Melkin would probably end up here because it was the closest 24-hour care center so while I didn't frequent hospitals often, I just expected it to be more. But then again, all of the chaotic people in my life weren't really the type to go to the hospital. They'd handle the issue on their own.

A few people wandered in the parking lot and off to the side there was someone smoking a cigarette but they didn't look familiar to me which was good. There were benches near the door and a girl was sitting on one with her legs crossed, head down, reading a textbook. It was a stupid place to read but maybe a family member of hers was inside one of the rooms and she just wanted to be near them. Or maybe she was just weird.

Either way, I ignored her and walked forward.

My legs felt heavier the closer I got to the door and eventually, I couldn't lift them at all. Instead, I stood staring in horror at the sliding glass doors, wondering if I was overreacting. Maybe my dad would help take care of this or at least show us how. But then, he'd been the one to do this in the first place. I didn't want to rely on him. I didn't want to even breathe the same air as him right now. But if I walked in that door, would I get in trouble? A Casey could see me and rat me out to my dad as a way to look better in his books, catching me where I was slipping. Or the hospital could get a glimpse of my chest and call child services or the police.