Pretty, Little, Rich Girl

Got yourself a keeper?

So there’s a bit of a time jump now..sorry! please don’t be mad :/ you’ll appreciate it soon bc intenseness !

*Morgan’s POV*

Today is my last day of therapy or as it’s supposed to be called, ‘rehab’.

Harry and I are actually getting along quite well, shockingly. He’s so funny and playful, yet can be so inspiring and serious. Ugh, he’s perfect.

Not for me, though.

For Alex.

His girlfriend.

What?

Yes! Harry has a girlfriend! I’m so proud, he’s great for her. They have literally everything in common! It’s a bit creepy, to be honest.

Eh. I trust her. She’s sweet.

Anyways, they’ve been together 3 months and everything has been going fairly well. I’m doing much better. The portions I have been eating have gotten large, my mind is starting to be happy with my body, and my stomach has healed up nicely. But my hand…not so much. I’ve lost my middle finger and ring finger. Not too bad, due to the circumstances. I’m still working on writing with it.

It physically pains me to think that I can no longer write many poems and stories like I used to. I can type pretty well with both my hands, though it will never compare to the feeling of ink running effortlessly out of my favorite pink ballpoint pen, like it was tears of Jesus or something. Ugh. I hate that I had two of my freaking fingers amputated.

Ew, I know. Everyone thinks I am a freak now and nobody wants to be friends with me. Except Madison because she’s my baby.

Madison visits me in the hospital almost everyday. She’s been good too. Only one murder attempt in the 4 months I have been locked up in this drab building.

James hasn’t contacted me in a while. Although his evil laugh from the day him and his crew shot me still haunts me.

Buzzz.

My now purple clad iPhone vibrates and it’s sound echoes throughout the room.

Annoying.

heey itz har. Needa talk to ya soon x

Oh jeez. His text lingo makes me crazy. I quite literally want to throw a grammer book at him.

I quickly send a reply saying to come over and we can talk as well as sign me out.

I wish dad were here. He would be able to sign me out, take me home, make me cookies, and be the father he should be.

But noooooo. His business is way too important and he’s back on another business trip.

Then again, he makes boat loads of money. So instead of intention, I get cash.

Not the most fair trade but hey, I’m alright with it for now.

“Hello Morgan!” A sickly sweet voice rang through the medicine filled air.

I hate hospitals.

“Hey Alex!”

I was glad to see her. I haven’t seen her in a few or so. My guess was that she was too caught up with my step brother.

“Oh please. Don’t use that tone with me.”  She snapped.

I shook my head in confusion.  Then asked in the least rude way, “Excuse me? You don’t want to be cheerful that my future sister-law is here?”