"Breaking News, Just yesterday following the discovery of 17 year old Brooke Heartly, 18 year old Zachary Crew has been arrested for the aggravated assault of 17 year old Andy Cray. The 18 year old was supposedly seen drunk and pounding on the 17 year olds door before entering the house and severely beating him for reasons unknown. Although sources say that the assault was tied directly to the discovery of Miss Heartly, who's status remains unknown. So far it appears that no charges will be pressed for the assault."
I couldn't take it. Couldn't believe it. This was just a new re-run story from about a week ago; a Monday I was told. The Monday after they found me. I had been in a coma for a week and my ribs were just starting to heal. It still hurt to breathe and it hurt even more as I trembled and whined, sitting in the damned hospital bed with tears streaming down my cheeks. When I woke up yesterday, I didn't remember anything and was still feeling the effects of a pretty bad concussion, but everything had been flooding back in overwhelming waves since.
Flashbacks and nightmares had returned. The tent. The pictures. The beating. Andy. Zack's kiss. The feel of him... I cried harder. It was my first time and the morning after, on my birthday, he had done that to me... Had he been waiting for that? I trusted him. I was so stupid. I AM so stupid.
"Good morning Miss Heartly, How are- " The doctor stopped in his tracks as he entered the room only to find me in my disheveled and broken state. "Are you alright? Are you in any pain?"
I weakly shook my head, the only clear response I was able to give him. "I-I'm fine..."
He glanced at the tv before turning his attention to the remote in my hands and sighed, coming over to me. He took the remote and turned off the tv, gently resting a hand on my shoulder.
"I think that's enough for today Brooke. Are you hungry?" He smiled at me, but I simply shook my head. I hadn't been hungry since I woke up. That worried everyone, especially the doctors. He sighed.
"I'll get you something to eat right away! Just sit tight." And with that he was finally gone. I still wasn't going to eat whatever slop he brought me. Even if he brought some food from home, food Stefan had made, I wouldn't eat it. I didn't want it. I already felt sick.
They had questioned me for hours after I woke up but I didn't remember anything, and I had told them I wouldn't and that they needed to leave me alone. So far, they had.
I was told I would be able to leave in a day or two and my dad was doing everything he could to make sure the media didn't find out when I'd be leaving. I couldn't wait to get out of the hospital and rid myself of its bleach smell, so I didn't tell anyone that I had been throwing up. I couldn't risk it.
~Three Days Later~
Finally! I left the hospital this morning and, though my parents tried hard to hide my leaving, it was hard to get out of the parking lot due to the crazy amount of paparazzi and news vans crowding the hospital parking lot. I was so scared and nervous as I was ushered out to the car by a whole bunch of big guys in black suits, cameras flashing. Since when was I famous? Just because of an injury?
As soon as I got home, I went up to my room and collapsed on the bed, sinking in to the familiar comfort just before all the pain and nausea kicked in. The pain seared through my chest, a result of the broken and still healing ribs, before the nausea tore through my abdomen and I had to bolt up and run to the bathroom. It was disgusting and I showered immediately after, happy to use my own body wash and shampoo again, washing away the overly sterile smell of the hospital. Getting out drying off with my own towel and getting dressed in my own t-shirt and shorts felt amazing. I wrapped my hair in a towel and walked back into my room, immediately being stopped in my tracks by the sight in front of me.
"Zack..." My voice came out strangled and muted. I knew I sounded pathetic and looked awful but he looked worse. He looked like he hadn't eaten or slept in days, a mere skeleton with dark circles under his slightly sunken eyes. He looked to me and smiled faintly, putting the picture of us that he had been examining back down on my vanity.
"Brooke... It's so great to see that you're okay. I can't believe you kept that..." He gave me a broken smile, motioning to the picture frame. I couldn't think of anything to say until the stench of whiskey on his breath hit me.
"Are you... are you drunk..?" I was instantly scared, I don't know why, but dread and sorrow filled me. Everything in me screamed that I needed to call for help, my intuition screaming trouble. I backed up without even really thinking, but he only looked offended and a little angry.
"What? Of course not! You don't like drinking, why w-would I drink?!" He nearly yelled it, slightly slurring his words and I knew he was, my heart racing. He came towards me and it took all I had not to scream until I saw the tears in his eyes. He collapsed into me in a sort of hug and though part of me melted into the small gesture, another screamed for him to get away.
"I'm so sorry..." His voice cracked as he whispered in my ear and my eyes instantly filled with tears, my arms wrapping around him as if by their own accord, my hands gripping onto his wrinkled t-shirt. I almost believed him but it was then that I felt his lips on my neck and then all of me wanted him to get away, my skin crawling at the familiar but unwelcome feeling.
"Zack... Z-Zack, stop..." It was weak, but I was protesting. I was trying to push him but he just pushed back harder until I was pinned against the wall with the force of his body. Soon I couldn't even scream at him due to his lips sealing over my mouth and I was instantly nauseous again, his mouth tasting like vodka and whiskey. The rest of what happened was a blur, but he left after and I couldn't do anything but lay on my bed in pain, clutching my pillow to my chest with tears streaming down my cheeks...
