(Avery p.o.v.)
It's been twenty minutes since they rushed Marcus into surgery, and I've never been this scared for someone in my life. Seeing him laying there on the bathroom floor, bleeding out with bruises all over his face and neck immediately broke my heart.
And then he touched my cheek with his long, thin fingers and said he loved me... it made my heart twist into a pretzel. Because you know what?
I love him too.
Minutes later, the ambulance got there, and I led them to the bathroom where Marcus was. I had wrapped paper towels around his wrists to try to slow the bleeding, but it had soaked through rather quickly. They loaded him onto a stretcher and ran through the hallways, I myself right behind. Everyone in the halls were frozen, except for the principal, who came running up to me.
"Mr. Thomas, what on earth is going on?" Mrs. Anderson was a tall, regal looking woman who could keep a cool head in pretty much any situation, but now she looked confused and frazzled.
"M-Marcus, my..." I hesitated. "My best friend slit his wrists. Vertically." Shock flashed across her face, and she watched the stretcher carrying the starved boy turn the corner.
"You had better go. Go with Mr. Blackwell... and pray that he lives." She smiled sadly. I simply nodded and sprinted off down the hallway. Caught up with them. Held Marcus's hand all the way to the hospital. Cried again when they said his chances of living were slim. Sitting in the waiting room, waiting for the news of whether or not he lives.
~Time Skip~
It's been an hour.
A whole hour since they took him into surgery... and I've heard nothing. My parents arrived about fifteen minutes after I had gotten here, having been called by the Mrs. Anderson, but I was too nervous too really say anything besides a quick "Hello" and a short explanation. It's so nerve-racking for me, having the one person I truly love so close to death. I just hope that I'll be able to see his leaf-green eyes, shy smile-
"Mister... Thomas, is it? Avery?" My head snaps up, and I see the doctor standing in the doorway. My mother's grip on my hand tightens ever so slightly.
"Y-yes, sir?"
"My name is Dr. Jameson. May I ask what your connection is to Mr. Blackwell?"
"I'm... I'm his best friend, though I don't really know..." I falter. "I just care about him so much." The doctor smiles.
"Well, he just got out of surgery, and he seems to be fine." I let out a sigh of relief. I feel something warm and wet on my cheeks, and I realize that I'm crying. My mother hugs me tightly, and my father rubs my back.
About five or so minutes later, I'm calmed down, and Dr. Jameson speaks again. "However, he is alarmingly thin and extremely malnourished, and his clothes are threadbare. He also looks like he's been beaten rather savagely. Do you know anything about this?" I nodded.
"Yes..." I looked down at the floor. "H-his parents and sister abuse him because he's gay, and they keep him in awful conditions. He only gets to eat at school or when he comes to my house..." I wiped my eyes and looked up. "They're absolutely horrible to him."
A cold, steely look crosses his eyes. "Call the authorities after this. They've gone too far- he was almost dead of starvation before he slit his wrists."
"Will do, sir." My father speaks for the first time since arriving here, and turns and looks at my mother. "Marcus is a good kid, and I don't want to see him go into foster care because who knows what kind of people he might wind up with..."
"Do you want to take him in?" My mother suddenly asks, and my eyes widen.
"I think we could... it's fine with me if you're okay with it."
"Of course." Mom smiles and gives Dad a peck on the cheek.
The doctor smiles. "I don't think your son is going to have a problem with that..." I can feel my cheeks heating up at his comment, and my parents laugh.
"Avery, honey, it's fine that you like him." I just blush darker.
Dr. Jameson chuckles. "Well, if that's settled, we can go see him, seeing as you're the closest thing to family he has. Fortunately, he didn't go into a coma, and should hopefully be awake within a couple hours."
We get up and follow him down the hallways, and we pass quite a few rooms on the way, most with the door closed. However, there was one that was open, and as we pass it, I look inside and see a small, brown haired boy with bandages wrapped around his midsection and wrists, who is sobbing. He was being held by a boy with bright indigo hair, and there was a blonde guy who was standing a few feet away.
Scenes like that make me wonder what happened...
Finally, we reach Marcus's room. I feel nervous- not the bad kind of nervous, but just like a kind of jittery feeling, like I drank too much coffee (and trust me, I know how that feels.)
Dr. Jameson looks at us. "And just be warned... he looks terrible. The poor boy is almost dead as it is... we're just trying to keep him from starving. He's lost a lot of blood as well..." I nod slowly, and he swings the door open.
The boy on the bed... I almost can't believe it's Marcus I'm seeing right now. His skin is deathly pale, his cheeks are hollow, and his normally beautiful, shiny black hair is now dull and messy. His ribs can be easily counted through the thin hospital gown... but I can clearly see that it's the same boy that I love.
"Ohhhh... Marcus, why..? Why'd you have to do this to yourself..?" I whisper as I walk over to his bedside. I set my hand on his, feeling the mild warmth of his fingers.
He looks peaceful- his chapped red lips slightly parted, eyelids closed, and the shadows of his eyelashes on his cheeks. He still looked pretty, even in this state. I gently took his hand, holding his long, delicate fingers as if they were made of glass.
"Avery... I'm so sorry..." My mother's voice is wobbly.
"W-what?"
"I'm sorry that you have to go through this... you really do love him, don't you." I freeze momentarily, but quickly find my voice.
"Yeah... I really do."
(Aye, another cliffhanger, haha. Unedited and probably crappy, deal with it. Sorry, not really though :þ)
