Chapter 11 October

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October

I had no idea how long I'd been out. I came to on the bed, next to Frank. Moving against him slightly, his head darted up.

"Hey, you're awake. Oh, thank God you're awake." He cried and buried his face into my shoulder.

"I'm okay," I said hoarsely. "What happened?"

"You don't remember?"

"Not...really." I tried to roll over, but found I couldn't. Pain sizzled throughout my entire body. "Owww..." I moaned as tears sprang to my eyes.

"Don't move. I don't know how bad you're hurt. He...he messed you up pretty bad."

"Eddie."

"Yeah. You remember?"

Bits and pieces of the beating began to come back. "My nose." I reached up and gingerly touched it. It was hot and hurt like hell. It was so enormous that it felt like an alien attached to my face.

"It's broken, for sure," Frank confirmed. "But it'll be okay. Once we get out of here I'll take you to the hospital and they'll reset it for you."

"We're never going to get out of here. We're going to die here."

"Please don't say that," He said quietly.

I felt as if I were already dying. "Make the pain go away, Frank," I pleaded.

"All I have is this Tylenol," He said, pulling it out of his pocket. "I had to beg for hours for it."

"Give me all of it."

"No. There's got to be at least 20 pills in here."

"So? Give them to me."

"October, it'll kill you." I simply gave him a blank stare. "Do you really want to OD after everything you've been through?"

"It'll be an easy way out. A lot less painful than the death I'm sure to experience."

"You're talking nonsense. Here. You can have 3."

He handed them to me and went to the bathroom and filled his hands with water. He came back and I popped the pills in and drank what water he hadn't spilled from his cupped hands.

"You know 3 Tylenol are not going to do shit," I complained.

"I know that, but it's better than nothing, right?"

I tried to shrug, but it hurt too much. Watching him climb back into bed next to me, I finally realized he was shirtless.

"Where's your shirt?"

"On you."

I looked down to the black skeleton t-shirt on me and realized he was right. "Why?"

"Because..." He averted his gaze. "Yours was all bloody. I wanted to put a clean shirt on you. Well, a little cleaner, maybe."

"Where is it? That's my favorite shirt."

"I threw it away."

I knew he was lying. There wasn't even a garbage can down here. "Your shirt is covered in blood too. What's the difference?" He gave me a pained expression and rubbed his eyes with the ball of his left hand. "Frank?"

"Yeah?" He kept his hand where it was and didn't look at me.

"What happened to my shirt?"

"I hid it."

"Why? Where?"

"Under the fucking bed!" He exploded. I didn't say a word because I saw tears sliding out from beneath his hand. He finally dropped his hand and turned to me, red-eyed. "He ripped it all to hell, October..."

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