Burns

Chapter Two

"Thank you." I managed to mutter as he was carrying me out.

I could hear the sirens coming closer and the strange man whipped his head to the side looking at the firetrucks. Then, he ran.

*****

"Evangeline?" I heard a voice cry. "Evangeline! Please honey!" This voice kept saying the same things 'Evangeline please,' and 'are you there?' In this annoying sad voice. Then another voice came in to save the day.

"Miss, I told you already, she is going to be out for a while, there is no use trying to wake her."

"But why!" The female voice sobbed. "She's my baby girl she can't die!"

"She isn't going to die Mrs. Harris. She will wake up as good as new very soon." This was just followed by heavy sobbing.

This was my mother. Her and my father had me when they were very young. My mom was sixteen and my dad was nineteen. So yeah, I'm pretty much illegal. That's exactly what got my dad to be a pastor at our church. He claims he 'found God after I was born, and stopped his fuckboy ways. So apparently I was illegal and a mistake, lovely. Once my dad discovered that my mom was pregnant, and after he 'found God,' he realized he needed to marry my mom. Let's just say that she wasn't too happy about that. My mom had the reputation of the school slut, who had probably slept with the whole football team. My dad had the reputation of the schools fuckboy, who had probably slept with the whole cheer squad. I know, stereotypical. So, when my father was over his reign of terror, my mother was still going. She wasn't happy with the marriage or the whole pastor thing. 

Now my mom is still not mature. She acts like she’s this all sweet, innocent, preachers wife, but honestly she is still the same woman she was in high school. You can obviously tell she's fake by the way she talks. For example, she's probably all over that doctor 'crying' on his shoulder, just trying to get attention like she always does. 

Then I can just picture my dad leaning over the other side of the bed, praying that I'll live. I mean I can pretty much hear everything. He’s so close to my face I swear he is about to go up my ear. He’s shouting too, over my mother’s obnoxious crying, which makes it even worse.

Believe it, or not, I have learned a very important skill from living with these too people for seventeen years, tuning people out. So I did just that.

I started thinking about the mystery man. My eyes were blurred from the tears and smoke, but I caught a few details about him. He had a very fair complexation, deep blue eyes that I could probably get lost in forever, and tangled dark brown hair.

A million questions were going through my brain, that didn’t register in my mind when he was actually holding me in my arms. All I could do was stare into those damn eyes. Gosh, I can’t get them out of my head. I could get lost in them not even looking into them.

I had never been one to fall head over heels for guys. I had always promised myself to stay away from them until I got married. I am still Christian, and I still want to wait until marriage.

I just couldn’t get those eyes out of my head.

My thoughts were interrupted by an ear-piercing screech.

“DOCTOR! DOCTOR! HURRY HER HEART RATE IS INCREASING!” My mom’s deafening yell rang out.

Wow, Increasing, You actually used a somewhat intelligent word, nice mom.

“Mrs. Harris, she is waking up. She is either awaking from a scary dream, or a pleasurable dream.” The doctor said to my mother like she was four.

“A pleasurable dream, huh?” My mom giggled, I mentally rolled my eyes. Then I tuned them out again.

This was heaven, being away from these insane people called my parents. I wanted to savor the time I had left here. Then I started to think. Did my heart rate rise because I was thinking about the mystery man? He did say if I was having a pleasurable dream that could happen. I mean, I wasn’t exactly having a pleasurable moment, in my dream, if you know what I mean. I was just imagining what he might look like. I was imagining the hottest guys possible with that same hair, eyes, and complexation, but no one could match those eyes. I was probably over-doing it. He was probably some old, creepy, ugly man that decided to save my life. Yeah, that’s it; he was old, creepy, and ugly. But now that I think about it, he had a boyish tint to his face. He looked around my age. I couldn’t tell exactly because of my blurred vision, but he wasn’t some old, creepy, ugly man. Well I ruled out that.

The bad part was, I could feel myself waking up. I didn’t want to wake up. Yes, it was dark, and freaky, because I couldn’t move my body, but I could feel and hear everything, but I like it hear better that out there. Well, I had to get out sometime. Now might as well be the time. Right before I woke up, I made me a promise.

I will find that mystery man with the toxic eyes.