4650 State Ave.

Chapter 2

The world sucks. That's my opinion. People hate people even though they are criticizing the exact thing that's wrong with themselves. Our governments have gone to shit. Heck our world has gone to shit holding on by this tiny tiny thread of hope that's almost impossible to see. Not to mention that in our world there exists this thing called genocide. I mean who decided to name that and what kind of sick person would decide that's a great idea. And there's religion, not to doubt anyone's beliefs, but I believe in science always have always will. But anyway the world sucks. That's a fact I think everyone can agree on.

"Mel."

I mean if anyone doesn't agree the world just look at any news or media station. I mean everything they post on is so depressing. The world is on the verge of world war three. Which lets be honest the human population has a very little chance of surviving.

"Mel."

I mean look at the weapons we have: atomic bombs and missiles. They could blow up the world if they wanted. To bad we aren't far enough on space technology. At this point I would volunteer to go to mars.

"Mel wake up."

Groggily shaking my head I blink and look up into bright hospital lights. With the rant in my head dying down to back around noise I have learned to ignore I look around noticing machines to my right beeping softly and an IV attached to my arm. I turn my head slowly noticing a big picture window showing a view of grey clouds my favorite weather. I hope it rains. My eyes take their time falling on the man sitting in the chair next to my bed and I flinch. 

"What's with that reaction?" Presto asks. A flash of hurt crossing his face. His real names Preston but ever since I learned that I  called him Presto he hates it but it makes me laugh and I catch him smiling at me whenever I use it. 

Slowly opening my mouth my lips cracked and chapped I state matter-of-factly, "I'm waiting for you to yell, Presto. Could you wait for me to at least sit up first." Pushing my hands down on the mattress he springs up from his chair and helps me get comfortable. A slight smile crosses his face at his nickname. Dang it he's not annoyed by it anymore I need something new.

While running names along the lines of dickhead, sorry bastard and my personal favorite, pig face on account of Preston's flat upturned nose and strawberry blond hair, the smile disappears from his lips the concern in his deep blue eyes is heightening. 

"Mel I'm not here as your boss. I'm here as the person who helped raise you who could calm you down when you were the most upset. Who is always there to talk. I consider you family Mel and even if when I come back into this room I will most likely start yelling at you. You don't need that right now," He tears his hands through his wavy strawberry blonde hair, "Mel that was too close. This time you did almost die." His voice cracks on the last word and he looks away wiping tears from his face. 

In the second of silence that follows I notice just how much older Preston looks. The lines that span his face have turned from smile lines to lines of misery. His wrinkles becoming more and more prominent by the day. I'd known that Preston was close to retiring but he never showed his age to anyone. But now for the first time in the dim light of a hospital floor on who knows what day, I see it for the first time. An old man who has lived through to much. An old man that cares about me. My old man.

In the next second I find myself hugging Preston my hands wrapping around his neck in a comforting hug. He gently places his hands on my back. But despite how gently he is I suck in a breath at the impact and he immediately retracts his hands murmuring an apology. But I tighten my grip ignoring the strain on my heavily bandaged back. 

"I'm fine Preston. I'm fine. Perfectly fine. I didn't die." I whisper I feel him physically relax and I let go. "See!" I say gesturing to my body hidden behind a hospital gown, "I'm fine!"