"I do hope you're kidding, mother." My voice finally finds its way out of my throat. My stomach was tearing into shreds, but it had eased off a little ever since I took one of the tablets Dr Lund administered me.
She had to be messing with me. Just a sick joke she thought she'd play on me whilst I was at my worst. It wasn't totally unlike her after all. Queue the laughter now.
"Why on earth would I be kidding about such a thing?" She says, standing up now with widened eyes. "Didn't Adam give you the note?"
"What note?" I say. Adam never gave me any note whatsoever. This is all looking so very bad.
"The one that your father sent you with your birthday present." She says.
I lift up my right hand that had my silver birthday ring, sitting in its place. "You mean the ring? I never got a letter."
My shoulder was slowly becoming numb, with a weird but satisfying tingling sensation flowing through my arms up my shoulder. "Where is Dad anyway?"
I hadn't seen him once throughout this entire debacle, and his absence was beginning to concern me. There is no way he wouldn't be here unless he absolutely couldn't be.
My eyes train on my mother as her face drops rapidly and begins to fade in colour. "I-uh-I thought Adam would've told you this by now." Her eyes avoid my own.
My heart sinks. "Tell me what?" I ask. "Is he okay?"
She moves to the side of my bed and sits down, gripping my hand within hers. "He is out of town, but he is okay." She says. "But I think it's something he would want to tell you."
"Well where is he? Can I see him?" I ask rapidly, feeling my heart pace pick up.
"All in good time, my dear. But right now you need to sleep." She rubs the palm of my hand gently then proceeds to get up from my bed and close the door quietly, engulfing me with darkness.
How was I meant to sleep when I never got an explanation about my father? Or my apparent engagement?
I huff in the darkness, staring into the pitch black. My left arm lie still in the brace, feeling no pain whatsoever. The tablets really kicked in for the bullet wound.
I cringe as I reminded myself of the bullet wound, and the person to inflict it. I wonder what he was doing right now. Was he even thinking about me at all? Does he know that he shot me in the shoulder? Does he even care?
The pressure in my head builds up like a balloon threatening to burst. I desperately needed Emma. She was the only one to understand. None of my friends would get it. They wouldn't even be allowed to know about it.
I feel the tears well up in my eyes as I try to turn my body in an attempt to get comfortable, only to be stopped by the aches and pains erupting everywhere.
Frustrated, I let out a strained yell into the void.
Everything was wrong.
Everything.
Someone I thought I could trust turned out to be my worst enemy. My Dad is god knows where and has God knows what's wrong with him. I have a bullet wound to my shoulder and what feels like all my ribs fractured. I'm apparently engaged to someone. And I feel so alone. So alone.
The tears flow out uncontrollably, as I hear sobbing get louder, barely acknowledging the fact that it is my own.
I feel frozen in place, restricted not only physically, but emotionally and mentally.
YOU ARE READING
Damn Straight, Your Highness
Teen Fiction"Drop it." He said. "You drop yours." My voice wavered. The light glimmered on one side of his face, the rest engulfed with darkness. Somewhere behind the barrel of his gun, I could see the pain in his eyes, the betrayal. I was on the verge of tea...
