A Call for Help

Chapter Nineteen: Role Reversal

It was strange being the one in the hospital bed, when you're so used to standing near one instead. He knew Samantha wouldn't be able to visit soon. They said visitors would increase his heart rate, and that would cause more bleeding.
That bastard Andrew had taken a knife to him. His gang of friends held him still. He tried his best to escape, but after being beaten around for a while, he couldn't. He'd even blacked out for a second during the fight, but wasn't able to do much after being held in place.
He hated Andrew. Luckily, he wasn't a smart criminal, nor were his friends. They had probably left finger prints everywhere. That would give them up. Would they be in the record though? Crap. Johnathan didn't know. He didn't know the others names either.
Suddenly the door opened and Samantha walked in. She looked nervous and sad. She most have been worrying herself sick. She walked over to the bed slowly and stood unsurly.
"They said I couldn't stay in here long." She couldn't stand still. "I just wanted to see that you're okay." She stopped and sniffed, trying to not cry.
"I'm okay," he says through the pain. She wasn't convinced. The doctor came in and said she had to leave. She gave him a quick, careful hug, then walked out slowly, looking back at him.
Later that day, a man in a suit walked in. He informed him that Andrew had been taken to jail, along with a few of his friends. It was a relief to know that some of them were taken care. He wondered how long it would be until he was out.
He wished he would have controled himself. None of this would have happened. Never would have fought Andrew. Never would have blacked out. Never would have provoked him, and never would have been stabbed. He hated himself for it.
All day he thought about what had happened, what could have happened, what should have happened, and what he would do now. Eventually, he just feel asleep.

* * *

Samantha couldn't sleep. She was worried about Johnathan. That lying mother fucker Andrew. She hoped he suffered, no! She want to punish him herself! She tried to calm down, before she started crying from anger and sadness.
The doctors told her that Johnathan would survive, but they said that about her grandmother. Her grandma didn't survive. That had been hard, but her parents had been together then, so things got better soon. Then they got worse. That was why her father had started drinking.
He didn't drink much now, but he wasn't done yet. He had a drink every weekend. She would complain about it every time trying to make him stop. She would do anything to try to make him stop. Board games, movies, anything to keep his mind off it. It didn't work much.
She wished she could change things. She wished people weren't so selfish and inconsiderate, and mean. What could she do? She was up very late, until she decided John would want her to sleep.

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Hello, sorry for the late update, but I'll be ending this tomorrow, then I'll go back and check for errors etc. I'm sorry to those of you that want it to continue, but I may create preludes for Johnathan and Samantha. For now I need to work on my other book though.. Let me know what you think.