Black Smoke

Meeting Your What?

It wasn't long before a couple of weeks had finally passed. There were numerous days when Celease's parents would stop by to visit her and other days when she would walk around the hospital to lift the spirits of other patients.

I had spent a few days visiting Mrs. Trixton myself. Even if the incident she had been in was over a minor gas explosion, I had treated her as if those very same legs were broken, tending to her needs like changing the channel on her television, getting her another cup of water, and even reading a few chapters from her favorite book, Pride And Prejudice. Don't get me wrong. I never would've done those things in public, but Mrs. Trixton had always treated me like her other son, and I felt it was only right that I returned the favor. That I always returned the favor.

I was feeling a lot better with my recovery. The bruises and welts were still visible on the surface of my tan skin, but the medicine and early nights of sleep that I had taken made the pain tolerable. At least manageable enough to walk around on my own two feet without having to crouch over.
I had gotten a call from the school, the counselor's office asking for my whereabouts. I'm guessing my father had never called them. I wasn't surprised...he doesn't even know where I resided the past couple of nights. Where I slept, if I ate...even if I was alright and safe. He probably never cared to check the hospital.

He still doesn't care at all.

The day I was discharged, Vanessa had forced a long list of plans to get through with me.
She was the one who came to save me from staying at the wretched place for much longer. Considering the clothes I wore in my incident were covered in large amounts of my blood, the staff had decided to pitch in and get me some clothes from the gift shop. It was a simple purple solid shirt and a pair of cargo shorts—nothing too fancy, but not to my taste either. I needed to pick up some clothes from home as soon as possible.

After I had finished getting myself together to leave, I met her in the waiting lobby. To my surprise, she wasn't alone. Sitting next to her was a dark-haired female teenager about 5'3 and a little over 160 pounds. It was rude for a guy to assume weight out of the blue, but I had my curiosities.
She looked almost the same as Vanessa, but not as much. This girl was slightly darker and her figure more curve-like than Vanessa. They both had cute round noses and eyes that could easily get you lost if you stared for too long. She wore a black long-sleeve shirt with a nametag on the front.

Melanie.

Her hair was straight, curly towards the bottom which fell easily over her shoulders. Something told me she must've been a relative.
Once Vanessa saw me, she stood up, a smile spreading on her lips.

"Zayden!" She ran over to me, hugging me tightly which I had braced for. Her arms wrapped around my neck, pulling me down a couple of inches to her level. I had waited for excruciating pain to seep through my body from the impact, something I had grown accustomed to when I first started getting treated, but nothing happened. It was just a regular welcoming hug, something I desperately needed after being locked up from recovery for so long. After a few seconds, she released me and gave me a questionable look, studying my appearance. "Um, what exactly are you wearing?" I scanned over her figure. She wore a caramel leather jacket with a white tank top with a floral pattern underneath and dark denim jeans. She took a step back in black ankle boots, and to top off the look, her hair was curled to perfection. I almost didn't answer in time and snapped out of my trance.

"Don't judge. I feel naked," I replied honestly. I stuffed my hands in the pockets, but they were too small and just uncomfortable, so I put them behind my back, grasping either wrist. "Is it bad?"

"Bad is an understatement," she spoke while laughing. "I'm not taking you out to eat like that. Let's head to a nearby store. I'm sure you'll find something more suitable for your character."