Love Story -- Joe Jonas

Love Story -- Joe Jonas | Chapter Four

Author's Note:

I want to say thank you to those who keep voting for my stories and especially the ones who comment them <3

You will need this soon :D (Second to last picture http://www.yesstyle.com/en/sylvia-sleeveless-two-tone-polka-dot-dress-black-one-size/info.html/pid.1022116164) Enjoy! Don't forget to rate and comment.

AND IF YOU HAVEN'T HEARD, ENTER THE NEWEST CONTEST, "Write for Haiti - Lend a Helping Hand" Contest, http://www.wattpad.com/contests <-------- Read rules here!

____________________________

CHAPTER FOUR

DEAR GOD

I woke up three hours later and looked around the room. A few rays of sunlight penetrated the room through the windows as the sun rose from its slumber. My gaze landed on a sleeping Josh where he lay on the ground, snoring. I walked over to the entertainment center and played the third Jonas Brothers CD again. There was a song I LOVED because it reminded me of my grandmother, but I couldn't let myself cry if in front of Josh. With a soft smile, I pressed the play button and then the repeat button, after putting the twelfth track. I lowered the volume so that only I could hear it and sat in a soft, green arm chair as the song started. I grabbed the pillow from the arm chair and clutched it like a child with a blanket.

"And you don't know what you got 'til it's gone.

Don't know what it's like to feel so low, yeah!

And every time you smile you laugh you glow,

You don't even know! Yeah! Whoa!

So I'll wait 'til kingdom come.

All the highs and lows are gone.

A little bit longer and I'll be fine.

I'll be...fine."

As Nick (Yeah, I even learned whose voice is whose.) finished the song, I wiped my tears and sighed, the song starting up once more. Half an hour later, I fell asleep, the song echoing in my mind.

I sat in the green leather hospital chair, staring at her. Holding back tears wasn't hard, unless there was a raging river behind your eyes, like the one I had. I cleared my throat, shaking my head. Be strong. Be Strong. Be strong. My shaky, clammy hand reached over and grabbed hers, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Hey, Grams, I'm here. It's Sammy." The corner of her lip twitched into a ghost of a smile. Even in coma, she could still hear. "I-I love you," I whispered as I leaned in closer so that the two others in the room wouldn't hear me. It's not that I didn't want them to hear, I just didn't want them to cry, Y'know? I looked from my grandmother to my grandfather who was staring out the window absently. He had been with her everyday since she was admitted into the hospital. He never left her side. He always had hope. A hope I wish I had when I first found out. A hope I got when I started praying to God every day to leave her here.

And now I feel like I did something wrong.

I feel like it's my fault.

I looked over at my aunt to see her trying to distract herself with a magazine. With a heavy sigh, I turned back to my grandmother, giving her hand another squeeze. I felt like I was in a movie. That very intense scene where the heroine's most precious person is hurt by the bad guy and everything is so unsure, but the injured person always makes it out, right? Right?

I gulped and let out an uneven breath, waiting for the director to pop out from behind the curtains and shout, "Cut! That was great, guys! That's a wrap for today, go home now." While I thought this, I watched a she breathed. She had lost a lot of weight, and she was short, so it just made her seem like a child - so small and fragile. Her hair had begun falling off a few months ago and her scalp was visible. And then I thought of something else - she would never see me graduate from high school.