This was a therapeutic chain of events.

TWELVE

Brendon appeared in the doorway a few minutes later, clutching my clothes under his arm and walking in placing them on the bed. After he put them down, I just expected him to leave, but her stuck around just standing there with his arms crossed looking at me. 

"What do you expect me to just get changed in front of you?" I snapped, raising my eyebrows at him. He stood there for a minute eyeing me like he thought I would throw myself through the window if he left. The thought had crossed my mind.

"Look Ronnie, I want to help you, I know I hurt you when I left, and it kills me every day that you can't forgive me, I mean your my kid sister and I love you." He said crossing his arms over my chest and looking at me with a warm expression. 

"If you're just gonna stand here and offend me, can't you wait till the 5 hour flight I have to sit on with you." I spoke, really wishing he would just leave me alone. 

"Okay." He said defeated. "I'll just be out here." He turned and left  the stingy room I just wanted to get out of.

After I got dressed back into the clothes I wore last night, I laced my shoes and walked out the grey hospital door that had enslaved me for the past 14 hours and 12 minutes of my life. It was 4:31 in the afternoon when I walked out those doors, and never wanted to return, I never would return, not for a while at least. 

"You ready?" Brendon said, smiling at me as I walked out of the door. I ignored him and made my way to the front desk where I stood and waited for Brendon to sign me out. I guess my parents left already, did I not tell you they never gave a shit. 

I got in the cab that Brendon must've got to come here, getting in the back seat, with Brendon unfortunately getting in next to me. The 13 minute car ride from St Luke's Roosevelt Hospital to the apartment was completely silent. I stared out the window the entire time, soaking up all of New York I could in the short time I had left here. When we got back to the apartment Brendon asks the cab driver if he could wait and he agreed. I stormed off ahead going into the house, slamming it shut, with Brendon outside. 

I saw both my parents standing at the bottom of the stairs, I shot them an evil look and stormed passed them, when I was running up the stairs I heard Brendon come through the front door. 

"Ronnie." My dad called after me.

"No, let me get her." Brendon spoke, jogging up the stairs after me.

"Do you need a hand with anything?" Brendon said standing at the door with his arms folded over his chest, leaning all his weight onto his right leg. I ignored him and hoped he would get the message. 

"What your not even speaking to me now?" He said, I scoffed under my breathe, grabbing most of my clothes from my floor and wardrobe shoving them into my green army duffel bag. I had always been a light packer, fuck all that girl shit with the curling irons and high heels. I didn't even own high heels. When all my clothes were packed I grabbed up a couple of my personal things. There was a picture of Bono and I at a Black veil brides concert which always stayed on my bedside table, I folded it up in one of my tee shirts and stuffed it down the side of my bag. I stormed over to my dresser and under all of my socks and underwear grabbed two packets of cigarettes and a lighter, shoving it in my bag, thankfully Brendon didn't see, so he wouldn't start on all that responsible crap even though he smokes himself. I climbed on a chair and looked at the top of my closet and saw the backpack Bono nicked for me at this market down at Harlem. I pulled it off and all its dusty galore, squinting as my eyes were infested with dust particles. I shook it out and shoved my notepad with everything I had ever written down on there. My I Pod, headphones and laptop just about fit in there. I continued to storm about, so angry that my parents had basically just given me up, and it didn't help that the person they were giving my up to was standing at my doorway watching my every move. I grabbed a handful of whatever underwear was in my drawer, then slamming through the draws of my bathroom attempting to pack a wash bag whilst under surveillance. Then I grabbed my make up bag and face wipes from my dresser and zipped up my duffel bag, which still to my surprise had a little room left in the top.