(Silently Drowning Series - Book Two)
Maybe that's it. We eventually go numb; because you can't break a heart that's already broken.
Maxwell Augustus; A boy who has seen nothing but hatred, yet somehow he's filled with so much love. Covered in scar...
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Maxwell Augustus
I once read a quote that said 'sometimes you think that you want to disappear but all you want to be is found,' but what if there is nothing left to be found?
Isn't it sad?
Being fourteen years old and feeling like there is nothing left of you that's worth saving.
If I had a penny for every time my big brother made me feel so worthless, I would actually be worth something.
Suddenly an uneven beeping sound comes to my attention, slowly peeling my eyes open to a view of a bland white room.
Wires are connected to my left arm.
A hospital. A freaking hospital.
How did I even get here? I know for a fact my dad wouldn't have brought me here if I fainted again.
Deciding to stop questioning it, I did what any normal person would do, I turned off the screen to the heart monitor thing and then proceeded to pull off all of the wires and tubes from my arm and chest, quickly threw on my clothes that are conveniently placed beside my bed.
And then took off running out the door like every embarrassing sixteen year old girl in those hostage books.
Sneaking around the white and beige halls — seriously is this place supposed to make me want to live? What can't we get a bit more color, like baby blue or something — mission impossible style.
Ducking behind corners as a nurse passes by.
Sneaking around the final corner, the exit is just in view...
Only to run straight into someone — just my luck.
"Where are you going in such a hurry?" The teenager, who doesn't look much older than me, and he has really nice hair. His voice is nice too. If I wasn't worried about my dad literally killing me I would sit here and just engage in a conversation with the mysterious guy.
Unfortunately I need to walk back to my doom.
"Uh... Home?" I reply to the nosy stranger.
"Where are your parents?" He asks again, as if he's not just a few years older than me.
