The reason

Chapter 9

. "I'm 'wake." I mumble and just like that I'm back in my body. I couldn't sleep even if I tried now. As if annoyed I didn't obey, some cosmic force decides I should feel all the pain again. I whimper as scorching fires and pounding fists race through my body. Involuntarily, I jerk on the grass. "It's okay, my mum's picking us up, she'll take you to the hospital." When did he do that, I didn't hear it. As if drawn by being mentioned, a car stops outside my house on the road. I feel Ben wrap his arms around me and then I feel dizzy. I turn my head and see the ground below me. He's actually carrying me in his arms. I feel like I should protest, surely I'm too heavy. But his arms are nice and comfortable, and by the time I get my tongue to move, the car door is open and he's lying me down on the back seat. Squeezing in beside me, he tells his mum to drive. "Here." He says gently and starts wrapping me in warm blankets. They should make me drowsy, but I feel myself getting more awake. How on Earth does that work? It must be the adrenaline. How ironic that right when I want to sleep and ignore the pain that stupid stuff is refusing to allow it. Frustrated, I struggle to sit up, and he has to help me. We don't worry about seatbelts, which won't help us if we get into a crash. But I don't care enough to try and put it on. He doesn't want to hurt me, the faint thought flickers through my brain. But that's ridiculous, why should he? Maybe he just wants the story, to share my problems with everyone.

As I see the hospital lights flashing in the distance I realize just how serious this is. Everyone's going to find out about the abuse. This is bad, really bad. And what if they find out about my cutting? Brian's already spread the rumours, but I don't think Ben believes them. How stupid that I actually care what he thinks. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that you can't trust anyone.

My fear gives me strength as we park closest to the front doors. Opening my own door I get out, standing in a semi steady position. "Don't, I'll carry you." Ben says, rushing around the car as I wobble. "No, that's fine. Thanks for the ride, but you don't need to stick around, I'll be fine." I don't want them in there with me, don't want them to carry on pretending to care. Determined, I take a shaky step towards the entrance. My knee buckles and I barely manage to stay on my feet.

 "Reegan, you got beaten up. I'm not going anywhere." His mum agrees with him and I turn to look at her for the first time. I can't seem to clearly focus on her, but she looks like your typical mum. Brown, wavy hair pulled into a neat ponytail, kind chocolate eyes that have the same twinkle as Ben's. I can imagine her baking cookies and greeting him warmly after a day at school. I don't have the strength to argue as Ben wraps his arms around me, mostly carrying me but making it seem like I'm in control. I get him to let go of me when we reach the front desk and pause, uncertain of what do. A blonde lady peers at me through glasses and stands up.

"Are you okay?" She asks.

"My friend's been beaten up, she needs to see a doctor." Ben speaks up for me and the independent part of me growls internally. "Of course, I'll go make sure he's ready." She strides off and I shuffle over with Ben's support to sit in the plastic waiting chairs. The clock ticking is the only sound filling the silence as we wait for the receptionist to return. Ben gets more impatient as the seconds pass, tapping his fingers on his knees faster and faster. I focus on the twinkling lights of the town, against velvet black. Every nerve screams at me to run, to get out of this place with it's keen secret finders. Just when I begin to wonder what is taking the receptionist so long, she returns and walks straight over to us.

"The doctor's ready. You're only allowed one person in with you. There's also some paperwrok to be filled out by a guardian." She waits and Ben's mum says.

"Her parents won't be in, so I'll do the paperwork. Will you be okay with Ben, honey?" She asks so nicely, her voice calming and I nod at her. "It's down the hall, third door on your right." The receptionist tells us and Ben starts leading me down the hall, one hand on my waist to support me. We find the room easily and are greeted by a man in his fourties with greying hair and a kind smile. It's a real smile, eyes crinkling at the corners, and it makes me think he loves this job, he doesn't get tired of it.  He directs me to a slightly reclined patients seat and I get myself onto it without help from Ben.