Chapter 27: The Good Girl's Promise• SIX CUPS OF PUDDING & HELPLESS LITTLE PAPER CLIPS •
• KIMBERLY •
A bright light shone in the distance.
My eyes ached as the light slipped underneath my eyelashes and made me turn my head slowly trying to avoid the morning sun. I tried to flip over on my side but my body screamed in pain and protest. I almost cried out into the empty space of my bedroom when my head felt like someone was pounding a hammer straight into my skull.
My left wrist ached in the rhythm of my pulsing head causing me to let a small grown pass my lips. The light continues to get brighter and I have to force my eyes open to see what was blinding me.
My eyes blinked wearily with blurriness trying to decipher the room that wasn't my room. My thoughts turned into panic and my body was now moving while trying to find out what was going on. I felt tubes connected to my arms and needles....
Oh, how I hate needles.
I reached my free hand over and tried to rip the bandages off to get the needle out from my skin, when I noticed my wrist was in a cast.
How the hell...?
Is someone trying to steal my blood and body parts?
Panic floods me again and I took the tips of my fingers (which were hanging out of the top of the cast), and started to peel the tape off my forearm.
It wasn't until I felt an abrupt hand cover my forearm did I realize I wasn't in the room alone. The warm hand pushes the medical tape back down.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, sis," a haunted voice said from beside me.
My eyes adjusted to the harsh lights as my brother's distraught figure flooded my vision. His sleep deprived eyes captured mine in relief as I blinked slowly. Then it hit me. I'm in the hospital.
"Andrew, why am I at the hospital again? What happened?" I trailed off.
"You don't remembered?" He asked. I took in his appearance once more, trying to find any source of what he was talking about. His dirty football jersey clung to his shoulders and he had on his grass-stained cleats from football.
The championship games.
I remember.
The sudden flood of pictures crossed my mind causing me to remember every detail of the game, the texts before the game, Adrienne falling, Adrienne getting shot and me breaking Adrienne's fall.
YOU ARE READING
The Good Girl's Promise
Teen FictionShe was fire; he was ice. He was bad and she was good. He was rude cocky and arrogant. She was sarcastic, depressed and lonely. Opposites attract. But so do lies, murder, bets, and promises. For we are all crooked souls trying to stay up straight...