The Bad Boy and the Brainiac

Chapter 3: A Dismal Hospital Room

I stayed on the ground, hugging my legs to my chest while rocking back in forth for a while, until I was finally able to pull myself together enough to call an Uber.

Somehow I got all the way to the hospital without breaking down. I walked up to the front desk, my whole body shaking. The receptionist must have noticed my distress because she asked, "Who do you need to see honey?"

"B-Blake Case," I said, my voice shaking. I grabbed the counter, feeling a wave of nausea hit me.

After waiting a few, agonizingly long moments, the receptionist rambled quickly, "Oh my gosh your Marie's daughter! I'm so sorry about what happened! He's in room 304. Do you need me to show you the way or are you good on your own?"

I muttered a quick thanks and told her I could get there on my own. The elevator ride took what felt like an eternity until finally, the doors opened and I rushed out and ran to the hospital room.

What I saw when I opened the door to his hospital room wasn't something I could prepare for. It was something I couldn't imagine ever happening, something that was right in front of my eyes.

I saw tube after tube, attached to my poor twin. I saw dark purple bruises lining his face, and skin so pale, he looked almost ghostly. In the background, the heart monitor beeped, the only indication that he was still alive.

My breathe hitched in my throat from seeing the scene before me. It felt surreal, a scene that I would witness in one of my many nightmares.

My mother was holding his hand, dark circles under her eyes. She turned around and tried to give me a reassuring smile when she saw me, trying to tell me that he would be fine. I wanted to believe her, but there was no way he could be. Even she knew it wasn't true.

The door to the hospital room opened slowly, revealing a tall man wearing white coat. He recognized my mother because he said, "I'm so sorry about what happened to your son Marie. He should recover fully. If you don't mind though, I do need to discuss a few things about his current condition with you. Also, I believe there is a girl by the name of Courtney here to see Blake." I crossed my fingers and hoped it wasn't really the Courtney I knew, that it was someone who had been confused and asked to see the wrong person, or that maybe the doctor hadn't heard her name correctly.

The girl that stepped into the room did not resemble the one I usually saw at school. Her mascara was streaked as if she had been crying, and she was wearing sweatpants along with a hoodie soaked in tears. When she saw him, she started sobbing. I wasn't really sure what to do, so I sat there immobile, hoping that maybe she wouldn't notice me.

My chair creaked, causing her head to turn to where I was sitting. Her response to seeing me was immediate. "Your brother was out looking for you when he got hit by that drunk driver! This is all your fault! You're such a loser! He would be fine if it weren't for you! You should be the one in the hospital, not him."

I flinched at her words because I knew she was right. I should have told Blake in person that I was leaving. It was all my fault. I started to feel nauseous.

"You almost got brother killed! You're such a selfish b*tch."

Then she did something I would never have expected her to do. She swung her fist at me and it hit me in the stomach. At that moment I couldn't breathe, it felt like all the oxygen had been knocked out of me. My lungs constricted, making it hard to breathe. I clutched my stomach and fell to the ground. She took one last glance at me, smirked, and walked out of the hospital room as if nothing had happened.

But I felt as though I deserved it. My brother had been in worse pain than I was right now, and it was all because of me.

Eventually the pain subsided and I could breathe normally once again. My mom walked into the hospital room and said to me, "The doctor told me to go home because I've been at work since two in the morning yesterday. Would you like to come home with me, or would you rather stay with Blake?"

I murmured, "Blake," and she nodded her head in understanding before she squeezed his hand one last time and left the room.

I stayed with him for hours, until eventually he woke up from the strong sedatives he had been given to ease the pain. By the time he woke up, it was already noon. Sunlight was streaming in through the window, illuminating the bruises scattered throughout his face and arms.

He tried to sit up but winced in pain. A nurse came in a gave him a glass of water with pills that were probably pain killers. The whole scene was surreal. He should never have been hit by the car, and now he was in agony, all because I didn't spend more time trying to find him at the party. I should have been hit by a car instead of him.

I whispered to Blake, "I'm so sorry. Because of my laziness, you almost died. I'm so sorry."

I walked out of the room with tears streaming down my face, unable to watch my brother in so much pain, pain that I had caused him. So instead of staying at the hospital, I ran home. When a tree branch deeply scraped my arm, I kept running. I deserved the pain. By the time I made it home, every muscles in my body ached. I decided to clean up the house so that when he would come home, at least it would be clean and organized.

For the next few hours I vacuumed, mopped, dusted, scrubbed, polished, and organized the whole house. I even cleaned the bathrooms. By then I was exhausted, but I decided I would bake cupcakes for Blake.

When I finally finished, I walked outside into the front yard of the house. I felt the grass between my toes as I walked towards the mailbox. I retrieved the mail and was walking back when I stepped on something very sharp. The pain almost caused me to cry out, but I clamped a hand firmly over my mouth to prevent any noise from being released.

I crouched down to the ground, and saw that I had stepped on a piece of glass. It was still partially embedded in my foot, so I slowly pulled it out. Once it was out, I hopped on one foot all the way to the house, where I threw out the piece of glass. I jumped over to the bathroom and put disinfectant on the wound. The rubbing alcohol stung as it made contact with the cut. Once that was done I put a bandage over it. Then I remembered the deep scrape on my arm which I disinfected and placed a bandage on as well.

For the first time since last night, when I had received the call that Blake had been hit by a car, I looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was a tangled mess. I had dark circles under my eyes, and I had scratches running down one arm. I looked like a monster. I cringed at my horrifying reflection.

That was the last thing I remember before passing out.

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I hope you liked this chapter! Let me know what you thought. Thank you for reading, and if you liked it please vote. It would mean the world to me. Stay amazing!
-ShmonyClause