New York- Where Dreams are Made

Chapter 60- The Blame Game

"Charlotte?"

"Chaaarlotte?"

"Charlotte!"

I shot up. The white lights and horrid smell of alcohol pads filled my nose.

Alexander stood, staring down at me.

"Morning sleepy head."

I looked around the room.

"What hap-"

Then it hit me.

I began to scramble out of bed. Alexander held his arm out to stop me.

"The others are fine."

"Define fine."

His face contorted into a very focused glare.

"They are all alive. Lots of bruises. A few deep cuts but they are breathing."

I let go of a deep breath and laid back down.

"This isn't real."

I paused.

"It can't be."

I got up.

"Wait!"

A deep pain shot through my leg. I stumbled and almost fell.

"Ow! That kinda hurt!"

Alexander helped me back into bed.

"I have to see everyone. It was my fault their in this position."

Alexander sighed.

"I'll go get a wheelchair. Are you sure you want to see them?"

I nodded quickly.

He left for a few minutes but returned quickly.

He helped me into the chair and wheeled me out.

"I'm sorry."

He stopped pushing me.

"Don't be."

He kept pushing me down a long hallway.

Then he stopped at a heavy door.

"Are you positive?"

I gulped and nodded.

The doors swung open. Alexander rolled me down the hallway. The painkillers began to kick in but I stayed awake.

He stopped at another door. He pushed a button and it opened.

Five beds. Five nurses. Five broken hearts. Five friends that will never be the same.

A monitor started beeping.

My least favorite sound.

Ever.

All five nurses rushed to a bed.

Flatline.

That quick huh?

Not even gonna let me see them?

Thanks.

The nurses looked toward us with sad eyes.

It was Angel.

"She was just here. She can't be gone already!"

The nurses left the room.