Wonderland

❄B62❄ In The Movies

Chapter Sixty-Two

Brayden's POV

In The Movies

Nothing sucks more than having to choose between your sister and the best friend you love. I knew that if I left, no matter how mad at me Susanna was, I'd hurt her. She'd think I valued Heather more than her, when in reality, I valued both of them equally.

But right now, Heather needed me more. Susanna had mom and dad and Es; Heather had no one but me, Isabelle, and a father who was going to end his own daughter's life.

"I have to go," I told mom, once I burst into Susanna's hospital room. Goddammit, I've been in enough hospital rooms to last me a lifetime.

"Where?" Mom seemed lost. She tugged anxiously on her blonde hair, which was held up in a ponytail.

"Back to college. Something happened to Heather." My eyes flickered over to Susanna. She wasn't looking at me. She was fiddling with the pulse oximeter on her index finger.

Mom looked at Susanna first before looking back at me. She gestured me outside.

"Nothing you say is going to make me stay here," I said, before she could say anything. "I'm going back no matter what."

"Your sister needs you," mom argued.

"Heather needs me more."

"She's your sister. You put her before anyone else."

"What about Heather? Her father's going to pull the plug on her. If I don't get there, she'll be gone."

"She's comatose. It's expected!" mom hissed.

Anger flashed through me, like lightning. "You're so selfish! You've always been!" I blurted. "You only care about yourself. You always do!"

"Brayden, grow up! She's only going to suffer even if she were to survive this ordeal. You even told me yourself she'll have problems in the future. You're nineteen! Use your common sense!"

"Why don't you tell that to Susanna? She got herself in there. It wasn't my fault, so I am not obligated to sit there with her. If she wants to get drunk and fool around with her boyfriend, then she go do that. She's old enough to understand the consequences, and if she loses her baby, then so be it. Let that be a lesson to her!" As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew I'd regret them later on. My mom had a shocked looked on her face, mixed in with some hurt. It was unlike me to talk like that, especially when it came to discussing the life of an innocent. Whenever I'm angry or distressed, I hurt people. It's inevitable, a part of who I am. Sometimes, I hate myself.

I couldn't waste anymore time here, though, dwelling on my actions. I had to get to Washington as soon as possible.

I hate how fucking complicated my life's become. Is this what being an adult means? Because if it is, I hate it.

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When I returned home, I begged Esmond to let me borrow his car. My words came out inarticulately, spilling out of my mouth like water. Es had to calm me down to fully understand what I was trying to say. It took about ten minutes to get him to understand me, even though it felt like forever. I told him about Susanna, too, minus the part about her being pregnant. He can go figure that out himself when he sees her.

"It's going to take a really long time to drive over there," Esmond said, after I was done explaining. "I can get you an airplane ticket, though? It'll be faster."

"Would you really do that?" I said, touched.

Esmond shrugged. "I've never seen you so worked up before over someone, especially a girl. And if something like this ever happened to me, I know I'd want someone to do the same. Losing someone you love hurts." He turned wistful, and I couldn't help but wonder if he was thinking about Bridget.

Fuck it. Who cares? After I stop Heather's father from doing something he'll regret forever, I'm going to help Esmond get Bridget back whether he likes it or not.

"Hey, let's not waste anymore time. I can withdraw some money from the bank for you and drop you off at the airport. I have to go check on Susanna. I'll let dad know you went back." Dad wasn't home right now. He had to work extra tonight.

I took a step towards my brother and hugged him, something I don't normally do. "Thank you," I said, meaningfully.

Esmond cleared his throat and patted my back awkwardly. "Um, you're welcome. But if you're supposedly her knight in shining armor, I think this is the part where you let go and go after her."

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It was nearing seven in the evening when I got back to Seattle. I was exhausted from the plane ride, but I refused to take a break. I called Isabelle to ask and see where she was. She was at the hospital.

"Mr. Forde's been talking to the doctors," Isabelle said, monotonously. She wasn't crying, but her voice sounded rasp. "I saw Heather this evening." Her voice broke. "She doesn't respond to stimuli. Her heart is beating abnormally. The doctors don't know what to do anymore. Her brain activity's worsening."

"She won't go, Isabelle," I promised. "I'm going to do whatever it takes to convince Mr. Forde not to pull it. He can't pull it. That's his daughter! What kind of a father would do that?"

"A father who can't afford to pay the medical bills that comes with having a daughter on life support. The insurance isn't paying much, and Mr. Forde isn't crazy rich," Isabelle said, bitterly.

My heart tightened. Bastard. Who cares about money? No matter what kind of a financial strain you're in, you don't pull the plug on your loved one. You hold on to every thread of hope you have.

"Where is he?" I asked.

"I don't know, but he's already talked to the doctors. It's happening, Brayden, whether we want it or not." Her voice cracked and her eyes welled. "I don't think we'll get a say in this. We aren't her family." Isabelle said something else to me, but at this point, I was barely paying any more attention. This can't be happening to me. Heather can't go. She's in a coma. Coma doesn't mean automatic death. Coma means the person is only sleeping. They're just in a deep sleep. They'll wake up. Most comas aren't deadly... They can't be deadly.

I made my way numbly into Heather's room and leaned my body against the foot of her bed. My eyes stung. The only noise you could hear was that of her heart monitor. You could barely hear her breathing.

I stretched my fingers out to touch hers. They weren't warm like mine. They were cold. "Life sucks without you, Heather. Don't think you never made an impact on us. You did. You left a void. I'm so lost without you. Why won't you wake up? I miss you." I bowed my head and felt a tear slip. I let it fall, watching as it took its place on the tiled floor.

In the movies, this would be the part where I feel her hand move. Where I feel it lightly squeeze mine.

In reality, nothing happens, and I cry until my lungs feel raw.