Paper Airplanes {Corey Haim}

Nine~If He Dies, He Dies

Warning: Mild Violence

Corey's POV  (Point Of View)
"Hello", SJ asked into the photo.

I watched her face, I could almost see the moment the panic set in and her heart broke. "Yeah, Dad", she said, "we'll be there.", she hung up. She got up from where she was sitting and started packing.

"Whats wrong?", I asked.

SJ began crying. "Ed--Edward...t-t-t-tri", she said, trying to speak. I wrapped her into a big hug.

"He tried to ha-ha-ha-han-hang", she tried again.

"Stay here", I said. I hurried to the auto shop across the street. "Otis", I began, "something happened back in LA. Can you drive SJ and I there?", I asked.

"If course! Get everything together and meet me here in 5 minutes.", he said.

I sprinted back and SJ was still crying, and packing.

"Oh, baby, your trembling.", I said holding her. I sat her down on the bed. "What happend?", I asked. I held her hands in mine. I'd seen SJ cry only a few times, and it always broke my heart.

"Edward...he tried...to..he tried to...hang himself", she said before breaking down in my arms.

That's not possible, Edward would never do that.

After packing, I took our stuff to Otis and went back to SJ. I picked her up like a bride and carried her. Edward is her best friend.

...
We finally got back to LA. Patrick, SJ's father, let us at the hospital. SJ and Patrick hugged, both with tears streaming down their faces.

So, Otis, Me, SJ, Patrick, Lisa--SJs mom, Kitty--Edward's girlfriend and SJs close friend, sat in the waiting room. Edward was under operation and we all were on edge.

A nurse, with long blonde hair and tired eyes, come up to us. "How's he?", Patrick asked.

"Life support. He might not make it, im sorry. But you can see him.", she said.

SJ inhaled sharply and stood up next to her father. "Let's go", she whispered.

We all walked to his room, number 667.

SJ saw him and tears rolled down her pretty face but didn't cry.

"Who. Did. This?", she asked.

Patrick, ever so slowly, reached into his pocket and pulled out a letter. He handed it to Sarah Jane, and didn't look at her.

She unfolded it, read it. Her face changed. No longer sad, but mad. She glanced at Edward and ran out.

I called "Sarah Jane!", but Patrick said: "Let her go. Just...let her go."

...
Sarah Janes POV
I got in a cab outside. "666 Landmark Lane", I said to the driver. "Okay ma'am.", he said.

Reaching the house, I payed the driver and ran to the front door.

I pounded on it till a man answers the door. He was tall, black hair, smelled like cigars and whiskey. Edward's father, John.

"How could you? How? He's your only son! You murderer!", I yelled. I pushed past him, and walked inside. He shut the door and faced me.

"He could die! You know that? He tired to kill himself! Cause of you! You and your daughter! He could die!", I screamed.

"If he dies, he dies.", he said.

"What is the matter with you! That's your kid! Your baby! You told him--and not even like a man, in person, but in a letter--that he was worthless, no good, horrible, unloved and should kill himself! How dare you!", I yelled.

"He's not my problem. Never really was. He is your father's kid, I mean, not really. But he is legally his guardian.", John said.

"I hate you! You are evil. Did you ever care!? Or is the only person you care about Heather?!"

"Don't question me little girl!", He  ordered.

"No. I'm not shutting up! I'm gonna be honest. You are killing him! You are the devil! You are going to jail, I promise you this! I won't let you do this--or get away with it! You can hurt me, but not the people I love! You just wrote your own death warrant Johnny-boy", I warned, yelling.

Then I noticed the many, many, many, bottles of liquor and whiskey and others. He grabbed one and chugged it.

"Put the bottle down! Put the bottle down for the love of a son. Put the bottle down for the love of another man's daughter.", I pleaded.

He was a alcoholic, a mean on top of that.

He took a swing at me and knocked me down. "How's that taste, Miss Hollywood?", he asked.

Pure evil in his eyes.

He grabbed my hair, and he dragged me into the front lawn by it. I screamed in terror and pain.

"No! Please! Help! Corey! Daddy!", I shouted.

He took the bottle and broke it over my back and I tried to crawl away. He kicked me in my stomach and beat me with his fist.

I couldn't breathe.

"No-no-no! Please!", I shouted.

John shouted mean, ugly things. He tried to rip of my skirt but I didn't let  him. I was curled up in a ball, being beaten.

I sobbed and tried to get away.

John walked off, spit into the grass, and I got up and tired to run away.

"No ma'am!", he said. Again, grabbed my hair and this time threw me down and choked me.

"God, please!", I yelled.

He got up, right before I lost consciousness, and kicked me again.

"Try telling anybody. You'll die. Don't cross me.", he whispered in my ear.

I groaned. He walked inside.

I laid in the grass, bruised, broken, beat. Everything hurt.

I crawled to the driveway. I got up, able to walk, but with a limp. The sky was a blue-black, much like my stomach and a place around my eyebrow.

A old man walked up to me. He looked kind.

"Young lady, do you need help?", he asked.

"Y-y-yes. I need help, sir.", I said, with every breath, it hurt.

He helped me into his house, his wife poured me tea and I sat on the couch.

"Everything...hurts", I said.

"Frank!", she yelled, "Let's get her to the hospital.

...
So now I was in my own hospital room.

Nobody knew I was here. The door was closed. I grabbed the phone and called for the nurse.

"Yes, Miss. Swayze?", she said at the door.

"Can you go to room 667, and tell Corey Haim where I am?"

"Yes ma'am."

Within a minutes time, Corey burst threw the door.

"Sarah Jane! Are you okay?", he asked, sitting at the end of my bed.

"4 Broken ribs, broken rist, scratches, bruised, but...could be worse.", I said.

"Who did this?", he asked, anger in his voice.

"Get my father. I need to talk to him.", I said.