Dorm Room 210 [Original]

Dorm Room 210: A Roommates Privacy

Author Note: Edited and updated on the 3rd March 2019

Thank you for your patience, everyone. This chapter was especially hard to write because I've lost so much motive to continue. But I've taken my breaks, I've re-centered myself. God, let's finish this story once and for all!

I'm responding to Instagram messages instead—there's a lot on Wattpad to get through and I'm not sure I'll respond in time. If it's urgent, hit me up there. If not, still follow me. There's a lot of you here, I want to interact with you as much as possible.

Instagram: Broken_Dream07

Chapter 20:

A Roommates Privacy

"Sorry, I'll be a minute," I tell everyone as I head outside, phone buzzing in hand. I don't wait to hear their responses, not when I almost jog out of the cafeteria, colliding with metal chairs. Aunt Stacy might want to talk to me about my parents, and if that conversation happens, I need to be prepared. "Hey Aunty."

"Hi, you busy?"

"Not really, just hanging out with friends."

Silence replies back. I frown. Does she have lose connection? "Hello?"

"Still here." Her tone changes. "I just called to let you know that I, um..."

Something inside of me begins to snap. "Aunty?"

"I had a small collision with a driver on the road, Lilly. I'm in the hospital with a broken leg."

"Oh my god." A horrible sensation coursed through me, and I began to heave. Not my Aunt Stacey. Not my family. Not again. "Which one are you at? I'll make my way over."

"Before you do that, could you go home and pack some stuff for me? I'll be here for a while."

"Send me your room number, I'll be there soon."

Another one of my family in hospital. From a car accident. Again.

I took a moment to myself, trying to understand what just happened, but a warm shiver runs up my spine and clouds my mind in panic. I'm going to lose her too.

Adrenaline is what forces my legs to quicken its pace to the dorm, pack my most essentials and call up a taxi. In twenty minutes they'll arrive. Twenty minutes feels too long.

Aunt Stacy sends me the hospital name and room number not too long after, making it a bit easier to process that she is, in fact, alive and in no major condition.

But it's not enough to swallow down my fear.

My head pounds, it's a struggle to stand up. I lean on the wall, against the kitchen counter, lie on the cool bathroom tiles but that evokes acid coming up my throat. I do everything to keep myself calm and away from having a panic attack.

It doesn't last. I sit on the tile floor with my phone in hand, tears coming down faster than normal.

A blur is what comes next; a line between losing it on the floor and picking myself back up. A shot of calmness waves over me, I don't think when I grab what I need. There's no point in overthinking when I realise my legs, my body, my arms, all move without any acknowledgment from my head. 

But when fifteen minutes pass, the motivation drug slips out and worry slicks its way back inside.

I head out to the front of the campus with my house address in mind. The taxi pulls up seconds later.