Love Me {Sequel To Last Hope}

Chapter Twenty Seven-Hospital Halls

"I just want to sleep. A coma would be nice. Or amnesia. Anything, just to get rid of this, these thoughts, whispers in my mind. Did he rape my head, too?"- Laurie Halse Anderson, Speak

T E L L I E

I tried to explain the earlier situation with Killian without using the words kidnap, or force. It was slightly hard to do. Mostly because I felt like a six year old who had just been smacked and was now being asked to explain what I did wrong to make sure I learnt my lesson. Really I hadn't done anything wrong. But I felt like it. Mostly because I didn't have a key to the house yet, so when I turned at four a.m, and spent an hour knocking on the door and calling dad, by the time I woke everybody up, dad looked like he did actually want to slap me before he fell asleep then there.

I explained the Killian situation in the glow of the rising sun. It leaked through the curtains and lit up the tiles and bench tops in the kitchen. I was on my third cup of coffee, dad his fifth. I could tell he was slightly pissed that I had woken him up. And it wasn't like he could let me in and go back to bed. Even if he was mad he was genuinely concerned. Which was why he was on his fifth cup of coffee listening to me try to ramble.

By the time I finished the story it was six a.m, and Chase (who had gotten into the habit of waking up at an early hour because he was afraid he'd be late for school) was bounding downstairs and singing for pancakes.

Dad hadn't said much. The usual remarks about Killian, along with more upgraded and intense words. That I recalled him saying on only a few situations in my childhood which magically all contained Killian. Dad was mostly concerned. He basically told me I was going to be chaperoned. I let it go. Mostly because I was slightly cautious of Killian now. I didn't think anything would happen with him. But I was sure he would tell my mother I was a hopeless case and the thought of her made me want to cower like a toddler. She made me want to stand behind dad holding his hand, and burying my head until I was told everything would be okay.

The subject was disclosed when it reached seven and dad mentioned they had found Bella. He said he was going to see Niall. Find out what was happening. I decided I was going because I had nothing else on. Niall and Chantelle weren't up to phone calls and everybody was confused and concerned. I was more so confused. Not like I didn't care about Bella. Hell I was worried about her. The whole thing had made me queasy. It was hard to imagine what was happening.

What was left of Bella was a mess.

I remembered the Bella I had seen months ago. She had been one of the chubby girls. Not exactly fat per se. But she wasn't stick thin either. Her darkish hair hanging over her shoulders. That speck of sadness and innocence running through her face. Her skin pink and cheeks that went red. What was left was a different person.

Her skin was pasty and pale. Cold like and nearly as white paper due to the obvious lack of sunlight. She was no longer chubby in anyway. She was thinner. Not in a good way. Not thinner as in she had grown into her skin. Sickly thin. Thin from lack of food. Her hair was longer and dirty. It had clearly been washed since they found her, but it was still coated in a dirty way. Her eyes had always had that piece of sadness. I had noticed it. I knew it so easily because I saw it in myself. But this... Her eyes were always wide; filled with alarm and hesitation. I couldn't bare the sight of her. She was sick; and clutching onto her mother like it was the only hope she had.

I left hesitantly.

Outside the room, I stood by the door beside Dad while Niall, who was coated in relief, explained what was happened. It was then I realised I was basically like Bella right now. I was sticking to my father like glue because whether I wanted to admit it or not what Killian had said had shaken me up.