A Psychic's dream: A Dream of What Could Be.

Chapter 3:

She heard voices, talking. "Is she okay?" Man. "She has a severe concussion and a broken nose." Woman. "Why does she faint?" Man. "Many reasons like lack of food or the concussion. It's probably the lack of food more than anything." "Fine. I'll feed her." "And if she doesn't eat?" "I'll shove it down her damn throat. I'll make her." He growled. She instantly knew who it was. A memory flooded her head. "I need a new damn book" Cameron. She waited until she heard feet start fading away to open her eyes. When she did, she saw the same forest green eyes. Crap, I thought he left. "Hey, you're awake!" He said, excitedly. His smile beamed down at her. "Yeah. What happened?" She sighed. "Well, I just spoke to the doctor. She said you have a severe concussion and a broken nose. Also, you passed out because of your lack of food. You need to eat." He spoke in a stern tone. Something in her told her not to argue with him, but at the same time, she NEEDED to fight him. She didn't know what came over her. She looked him dead in the eye. "No." He flinched, as if she had just slapped him. "What? What did you just say to me?" His eyes burn with anger. Obviously, no one had ever not done what he said. He thinks he can boss everyone around. Not her. Not Anastasia Maria Armstrong. No one bosses Anastasia around. "I said, no." His face suddenly turned a deep red, almost a maroon color. He slammed a brown paper bag onto her bed. "You NEED to eat. I will be right back. I swear to you Ms. Armstrong, if that food is not eaten by the time I get back, you WILL be very sorry you didn't listen to me." With that, he stormed out of the hospital room with a slam of the door. She started giggling. No, she started laughing. Deep in her stomach laughing. Then her laughing stopped as she remembered why she was in the hospital in the first place. Her eyes watered and a tear fell slowly down her left cheek. It trailed down her cheek and to the corner of her lips. Instinctively, she licked her lips. She could taste the salt of that tear on her tongue. She felt thirsty and hungry. She looked at the clock on the wall. 11:49 in the evening. She had woken up at 8:30 that morning. No wonder she felt like she did. She opened up the brown paper bag, with a rustle. Inside was your standard children's school lunch. A dark, red apple, a stick of cheese, and a sandwich in a clear wrapper. At the bottom of the bag was a small bottle of orange juice. She unwrapped the sandwich and looked inside. It was just ham and cheese. How do I know this is safe? She opened her mouth, leaving just enough room for the corner of the sandwich to enter. She bit down and her mouth was flooded with flavor. This was more than just a ham and cheese sandwich. It was the best sandwich she'd ever eaten. She scarfed it down, like a starving animal eating its first meal. Then she inhaled the apple and cheese, without stopping for a break. As she swallowed the last bite, the door opened to reveal a grinning Cameron. He walked t the side of the bed. With a light pat to the head and a chuckle, he said "Good girl." She felt her mouth drop open and her blood begin to boil. She felt her blood rush to her head. "HOW DARE YO-" And he just laughed. Laughed until he couldn't breathe. She couldn't believe this man. Who was he to do this to her? He had threatened her and then called her a DOG!? She was heated. She stood up out of her bed. "GET OUT!" He stopped laughing and looked up. "I SAID GET. THE. FUCK. OUT!" She never used that kind of language, but she was that mad. With his head hanging low and tail between his legs, like a dog that was in trouble, he left the room quietly. Her breathing was heavy and her heart was pounding. She, never in her life, felt that kind of anger. How can he get under skin so bad? A wave of exhaustion hit her. She crawled into her bed with a sigh and let herself fall back into the darkness.

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