I'm Not Hungry

Four

The night Ian leaves, I have a nightmare. I don't get them as often as I used to. It was of my father and his horrible accident. There was metal and blood everywhere.

~~DREAM START~~

We were driving to a destination only my father was aware of. This is it, I thought, my thirteenth birthday. I'm finally a teenager!

My dad thought it would be a good idea to try and cheer me up, what with all the Clampson family drama. The triplets have been the only thing on my mind. My father noticed my change in behavior and surprised me with a birthday trip, just me and him.

We were now on the highway, heading past all of the places I knew. The waiting was torture for me. So when my father said, "Okay, Belle, we're almost there!" I nearly screamed. Though I did scream it was not at that moment.

Roughly two minutes later, a large truck slammed into the side of the vehicle, crushing my father into the center council. His abdomen, intertwined with the large piece of plastic, created a gory masterpiece. But my father was a brave, fighting man.

Barely breathing, he reached over the crushed car parts to my seatbelt. Only after pressing the button and forcing me out of the car did he attempt to save himself. Believe it or not, he did make it out of the burning car. Though you could see the white of his bones, he was alive. Crawling over to me, he pushed me to the side with his last bit of adrenaline, eyes wide. Then, he took the full force of yet another oncoming vehicle. As the Sudan spun out of control, I rushed over to my dying father. "Daddy? Daddy? No!! Not you too, daddy, not you! I'll do anything! Anything, I swear!" I screeched.

My father looked at me and said, "Baby, just be happy."

"No, daddy! Just tell me something good!" I yelled, desperate to feel something other than the endless pain.

He gave me a weak smile. Then with his final, dying breath, he said, "Disney world, baby. We were going to Disney world." With that last proclamation, his eyes shut in a slow, dreadful manner.

"Daddy, no! Take me instead! Take me too! I want my daddy! Daddy please come back to me! Please!" I sobbed, tears flowed down my reddening cheeks relentlessly. Only then did I realize that there was someone else. A figure without features-a silhouette- was walking in my direction. This person turned to the right about twenty feet away from me. I yelled for them to stop but they paid me no mind. They then walked straight into the wreckage where they were hit with the Sudan that had previously taken part in my fathers death. I ran to the blurry form, a newfound courage burning the blood in my veins. Stumbling over bits of debris, I finally made it over to the crashes' newest victim. What I saw sickened me, making my stomach turn in violent, unpleasant ways. It was Ian. Dead, but Ian nonetheless. I was shredded to bits by this sight, so I screamed a high-pitched squeal. I was then hauled away by a paramedic as I watched the fire consume the two carcasses.

~~DREAM OVER~~

I wake up screaming and thrashing, my heart monitor going haywire. A blonde, female nurse quickly rushes in with a large needle. This only encourages my screams.

Quickly rushing to my side, she holds down my arm. Once the clear fluid was flowing through my veins, she takes the metal out of my flesh and sets it to the side. Soon enough, my brain is no longer sending signals to my body. My eyes slowly flutter shut, but before I'm fully unconscious I hear the creaking of the hinges of the metal door opening. "What happened to her?" They demand. Before any more talking could be heard, I was subdued into a dream-less, unconscious state.

[]•[]•[]•[]

I wake up, once again, in the hospital the only thing different is that the room is lacking something. Lacking Ian. I look towards the window and out to the familiar city of Bedlott, Florida. It's a small town, with a mere 1246 people.

And yes, they keep track. I was so distracted by the beauty of my new home town that I didn't realize I wasn't alone. I was just about to call a nurse when I see her standing there. Mrs. Clampson.

Well I am in some deep, green shit.

"You have children?" Was the first thing that came out of her mouth. Really? No hello, how are you, why the fuck are you in the hospital? Pick one, any one. "And, more importantly, why in holy hell do they have the same names as my children?"

I quickly jump in, fear for my reputation as a non-slut as well as my life. "You see, I was at home watching Criminal Minds in my living room. Do you still watch that show? Anyway I was watching and all of a sudden ring ring happened. So I went to my door y crujir, crujir y auge, auge y explosión yo tener dos niños." I ramble, ending in Spanish. It's an old tick I haven't yet gotten rid of. But who can blame me? This bitch is scary as fudge.

Jolie looks at me as if I have two heads. She raises an elegant brow. "Mind translating?"

"It was nothing important. Basically someone put two babies on my doorstep." I say in a rush.

She nods. "I'm sorry for your loss." She says eventually;sincerely.

Now it's my turn to nod. I really don't want to talk about this. I hate this topic with a burning passion. "It's not your fault." I say quietly.

"Oh I know. You do know that so many people have it worse than you, right? And you're being rude and inconsiderate by not eating." She says sternly.

"Well apparently I didn't want those people to suffer alone. They'll have one person that can give them food but won't eat it themselves." I retort, looking her right in her intimidating green eyes. They're exactly like Ian's, except Ian is like a little puppy dog and Jolie is basically a female, human version of Satan.

Jolie glares at me. "I always knew you were bad news." As she walks out, I can't help but wonder, once again, if Chevy's death was my fault.

After Jolie got into the hall I faintly heard a masculine voice yell, "What did you say to her?" I smile to myself, most likely looking like some clown-like freak. Well good. Let me be a clown-like freak. A hot guy is defending me from his mother.

What do you know? He really is a son of a bitch.