Long Sleeves are my Friend [Complete]

Chapter 9 ✔

[Edited]

I groan as I try coming to my senses. Where am I? My head is pounding, and I go to soothe my aching head, but feel something on the top of my hand. I open my eyes, instantly blinded by the lights. I blink a few times beginning to take note of my surroundings. An IV is in my hand. This isn't my room. Am I in a hospital? NO! My dad is going to literally kill me. I need to leave now! I hear a rapid beep, noticing the monitor next to me going crazy. A lady quickly walks in giving me a warm smile, dressed in light blue scrubs.

"Honey, I'm going to have to ask you to stay calm," She says softly, eyes filled with concern, "I think you had a panic attack. Can you tell me what happened?" She asked.

"N-No," I say instantly.

"It's okay now honey. You can tell me."

I don't know this woman and I can't tell her anything or my dad will be furious.

"I was just...stressed. I promise," I half-lie.

"Okay," she replies.

'I can't trust anyone,'

"You also have a visitor," she says and I instantly tense. What are they going to do this time? I know I can never escape them. She gives me a smile before exiting the room, closing the door softly behind her. I sign enjoying this moment of peace, even if it's for a few seconds, it's still better than none.

I hear and knock on the door, feeling anxious once again.

"Come in," I say ready to get a lecture about my behavior. The door opens revealing Xander. What is he...? Then the memories instantly flood back, like a title wave. Oh god, I had a panic attack in front of him. Why him of all people?

"Hey Emilia," he says sitting in the visibly uncomfortable chair, next to the bed.

"Hi," I breath, barely audible. Did he bring me here? Why does he care this much?

"Uh...I didn't...didn't make you pass out, did I? I called my mom because she is a nurse here and she told me to bring you here. I...I uh...did I make you have a panic attack, Emilia? If I did I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, so please don't lie to me," he says, his face etched in worry with a pleading look in his eyes. I turn away from him, my gaze fixated on the sheets on top of me.

"No, it wasn't your fault. Sometimes I stress too much over the smallest of things," I partially lie. It's not his fault. It's my family's fault. "Wait...What time is it?" I say in a slight panic.

"Woah, um, it's 8:45 at night. We can call your parents if you want to. It might be a good idea for them to know you here," he says, beginning to stand up. It's almost 9?!

"I need to get home, now," I say, gripping my hair. What are they gonna do now? They might think I'm sneaking out or rain away again.

"Emilia? What's that on your arm?" He pauses, taking in a breath, "Did you do that to yourself?"

I look and notice my sweater rolled up a bit to expose my ugly scars. I quickly push it down, before crossing my arms.

"It's nothing."

"Really? Am I supposed to believe that? Stop lying and let us help you!" He fires back, his voice rising slightly in an angered tone.

I instantly cower in fear, clinging to the sheets. I didn't mean to upset him, the thoughts of my father coming back to me. "I'm s...sorry. Please don't hurt me," I tremble in fear, knowing this might make it worse. I wait for a blow but it never comes. I hear him sign, but remain the way I am.