Chapter One

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"If only sorrow could build a staircase, or tears could show the way; I would climb my way to heaven, and bring him back home; Don't give up hope, my friend, this is not the end."

        Casey's hands were cold. As if all the blood and life was sucked out of her. Her crimson splotched hair was still black, while it wasn't that plain, dull black. It was the shining, moving, lake-at-night-with-the-moon-reflecting black. Her skin was still pale, although this looked more sickly- more yellow. Like the sun had done a bit more than burned her. Her skin was the color of fried grass, but less matte. Her once luminous eyes were now closed. 

        I used to envy my older sister. She was undeniably beautiful- even now, as she lay lifeless in these white, clean hospital sheets- and she was always trying to help someone no matter how insignificant they were. She would do charity work and always live life to the fullest; never afraid. She was always calm in stressful and discombobulate situations. Casey was that daughter that made straight A's and was never in trouble. Yet, she held many tattoos and piercings.

        I loathed Casey.

        "How's she doing, Doc?" Oliver asks. He decided to come with me -even after I continuously refused for him accompanying me. He had a genuinely worried expression on his face when I had told him my reason for leaving so abruptly. I had sighed, knowing that Oliver was a very adamant person. This was also a reason why I had always admired my boyfriend.

        "Her vitals are okay. For a person, let alone a woman, to have survived a crash such as this one- well. It seems to be God's on your side. She could have had a lot worse. Casey has Hematoma, which is some bruising to the brain. We need to keep her a couple months for treatment." Dr. Elder explains. I do not know what to think about this. I start to worry, then become shocked, and worried again. 

        As much as I hate her, I do love her. 

        Weeks went by, and Casey never got better. Mom and Dad, well, Mom anyway, had died a year ago. Dad is somewhere in some bar fucking some chick- and I don't give a flying fuck about him. The guys had moved to California- and Oli and I soon lost contact. I had wondered if Oliver would forget me; forget the sweet kisses and small pecks we shared. Although these negativity's roamed my mind, I set them aside for my sister's sake. 

        If there is a God, then he is not on my side.

        Ever.

        Casey began breathing correctly a few days ago. Her face is still the same as it was many weeks before, but with more pink in her cheeks. I took this as a sign to leave for a bit. To begin to build my life back up. I had missed a whole month of life, spending nights in the hospital. Spending my slumber in an uncomfortable and uneasy motion of a metal chair. The smell of sanitation and cleanliness had became accustomed to my senses. The doctors knew me by face. These were a few perks of staying away from life. Not that I would call them perks; these were more for my sister's sake. 

        Smoke filled my nose as I pushed through the clear doors, air cramming itself down my throat and into my lungs. I could feel the sun's warmth making itself home onto my cool skin, birds and life encircling the vicinity. The previous smoke mentioned ruined it all; tainted it. I looked at the man sitting on the bench. His head was in his hands, the cigarette between his fingers. A beanie was placed on his brown curly hair, and the rays of light surrounding him making it look like a smudged painting. Blue jeans with a black shirt covered his body, along with a few choice tattoos. The words 'Jade Valinta' inked on his knuckles, likewise, an angel on his tan bicep. He looked up to find me examining him, causing him to change from shock, to a dirty look, to a kind of I-don't-fucking-care-any-more attitude and looking back down. His face had a small aftershave, with almost green eyes caught between gray. 

        I decided to sit down.

        "Hey, what happened with you?" the words tumbled out of my mouth before I could over-analyse them. His head perked up again, swaying with curiosity and wander. 

        He paused before saying, "Friend. He has Pyromania. Let's just say he likes fire." 

        "Ah. So what's your name?" 

        "Jasper Prescott. You?"

        I thought about what name I'd give this Jasper. He was certainly a stranger, but he looked innocent enough. "Anna Mariette."

        This was nice. A break; freedom for at least an hour or two. To just sit and talk with someone; not that I'm saying I'd prefer a therapist. But the simplicity of just talking to someone, socializing. Thinking that they enjoy speaking to you, forming word after word of subject after subject. To not have to constantly worry about something nagging in the back of my head, constantly nipping and biting at my hopes and dreams, tearing them apart after reality had already destroyed them enough.

        Deep in my thought, I hadn't realize Dr. Elder stood in front of me. "Anna, you have a phone call."

        "Ann, baby, we've been producing more songs and it's absolutely amazing, you need to come up here, reall-"

        "Oli, I have to stay for Casey. After she gets out she'll need extensive help and I can't jus-"

        "Fuck her!" this was the first time I had really heard Oliver yell, while cursing. "She's twenty-seven. She can take care of herself. I need you Anna. You're my sun and I need my light. Please."

        "I'm sorry, Oli." and with that, I hung up. 

        That's also when I made the worst mistake of my life.

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