Glass Hearts

XII

This chapter is dedicated to my wonderful friends, Jazzy_wigger998 and awesomewriter120279. They have always been there for me, keeping me sane, and helping me progress in this story. Can't thank you guys enough! You guys are amazing.

Oh and sorry for my absense. I would blame school but nothing is too much for me currently. Just blame myself and my laziness. 😄

Roy

The next morning wasn't the best for me. I slid out of bed in a horrid mood, dark thunderstorm clouds fogging up my brain. To make it blunt, I was in a foul mood. I could just feel the ache of a fight brew within me. I hadn't had one in a while, my mind being taken off with Christine, but now... My suppressed anger was challenging me to rear its ugly head. I slammed my door when commencing my exit today, nearly splitting the wood. Parents -and uneducated adults- would call this hormones, normal people call this a bloodlust.

I realized how late in the day it was, of course Jackson didn't have the nerve, or kindness, to wake me up. I made a mental note to rip him a new one later. At least, I wouldn't be late. Or... Horribly late... I took a few steps, the crunching of broken beer bottles ringing in my ears with ear foot placement. I didn't make it very far, I could still see the door I slammed a mere few minutes ago, when my phone vibrated violently. I slid it out my pocket, wondering what could eat up my time and make me even late. What excuse could I churn out? What lie could I mask in subtle truth to get away with?

It was a text. One from Christine. I paid no mind to it, assuming she was questioning my location. I kept walking, keeping beat with the broken glass, until I reached a nicer part of town. Christine never told me which park we were going to with Charles, but I took a guess and thought it was the closest one. The park was completely deserted. No, that isn't the correct word to use. There were people there, but no Christine or little monkey with her. I was slightly confused. Maybe I am at the wrong park?

I decided to finally face my phone and open the text message. I would have dropped my phone, if I didn't tense up. My mouth went agape. So much sadness within our lives, it felt like God forgot us, left us to have sorrow and wish for our demise.

Roy... My mother is in the hospital. She had a stoke, and is now in crtitcal condition. The doctors don't believe she will last much longer...

Christine then sent an image, of her mother lying ill in a hospital bed. Her brother, was in a chair, nearly off frame. He had his head in his hands. He looked defeated. I could only imagine what they were feeling. I was lucky in seeing my sister die quickly. Christine and her brother are tortured by watching their mother slowly come to her end. Maybe it will be days. Maybe it has been years. That I do not know. What I know is that I'm angry. I'm upset.

I clench my fist and forcefully put my phone away. If I held onto it any longer, the screen might have shattered into thousands of tiny pieces. I stomp away. Away from the happy children, their parents joyful gazing upon their kids. The "happy family" vibe finally starting to eat away at me. I envy them. I'm sure Christine, deep down, does too. Everyone that has seen the truth, been broke before, envies them. People even envy children for their innocence. I'm sure everyone does.

I wholeheartedly wished I could trade places with Christine, shield her from the emotional trauma she must be facing. However, I'm not sure how well she'd manage dealing with my past. We're tampered puzzle pieces. Cut, damaged, destroyed. We don't fit anywhere. We don't fit with anyone.

Russell comes my way. His embarrassing gang hides behind him, but tries to look intimidating. I had a gang once, back when I was abused. We ruled the town, we were despised. I sometimes look back on it with glee, sometimes with regret.

I keep my head down, wondering what my best options were, "What do you want? Puff ball."

He blows air between his lips, he's a bit on the pudgy side, but is unimpressed with my insult, "Where have you been? Has the kind gone and hide behind his peasants? Hm?"

"Shut up. Not in the mood."

He blatantly ignores me, "I've heard rumors that he's found himself a concubine. Is that so?"

He pushing me to my breaking point, on purpose, only ticking me off further, "Leave her out of this. She has nothing to do with us."

He looks amused, he found one of my buttons and is rapidally pressing it until it bursts, "Hm... I'd love to have my own royal whore. She'd be a lovely first edition. Or, perhaps, my generals could have a crack at her." He had an ugly, dastardly, disgusting smirk.

"Don't you dare touch her!" I scream at the top of my lungs. My fist swings into motion, colliding with his face. I literally punched off his smirk. It felt good. It felt great to be throwing punches again. I already forgot why I stopped. My addiction was revived.

Russell spat, mostly getting on me, "Oh I'm sorry your majesty. Did we anger thy?" He mocks me. I send a kick into his spleen.

We no longer speak, only beat each other to a pulp. It grows to a daze, I keep throwing punches, aiming for weak points, and try to dodge. I numb myself to pain, only focusing on smashing Russell's face in so he's unrecognizable. Eventually, blood is drawn. Both of us are bleeding. Our noses ooze out the bodily fluid. We're a few feet apart, breathing heavily. It appears that I won. Russell has a face of defeat.

"We will continue this your majesty, I'm currently busy. Don't think this is over, I will keep my eye on your-" I punch him with all my might, once more, before he dares to utter the insult to Christine's name.

Russell and his gang retreats, giving me looks and screaming insults that I drown out. I go to the nearest alleyway, trying to collect the pieces of myself that slipped out. I send a punch, flying into the air, against the brick wall. Again. Again. Again. Each fist, punching the hard wall. They grow numb quickly. When I stop, I thought I had nothing left but bones. Blood drips heavily down my knuckles. I don't care. I wander. I wander, no idea of my destination. I wander, my mind a blank.

I wander into the hospital.

I already know the room number, 656, I saw it in the photo. Nurses try to stop me, either because I'm bleeding profusely, or that I have no authorization for where I'm going. I push them aside, making my way through the twisting halls. I reach the door, my hand shaking on the doorknob. I turn it, sending the door open. Christine looks at first, her eyes red from crying, now wide from shock.

I hear men and women yelling at me, after me. A doctor rushes in and grabs hold of me, I let him. My effort, my strength, wasted away when I saw how much pain was in Christine's eyes. Her voice was trembling, quiet when she said, "S-Stop... Let him go..."