Alrighty! Last chapter!!! I hope you all are prepared for this!
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Brooks P.O.V
The chair squeaks beneath my muscled frame as I lean over, my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands as I breathe in deeply and out, loudly. I keep trying to fill the hole in my chest with the air surrounding me. The rubbing alcohol and smell of sickness in the air would've made me gag a few days ago... But now, I crave it. I crave every moment I get in this hospital.
I lift my head from my hands, glancing at Clary, who lays there pale, and her chest barely lifting with her breaths. I.V.'s stick into her arms. One in her hand and another in her opposite arm, inside where the elbow and bicep meets.
Except for my pleas to Clary, begging her to wake up, the repeated dripping of the saline echoes through the silent hospital room.
And each time I plead her to wake up, to hear me or at least even twitch her finger, when she doesn't answer or even react... My heart scratches and crumbles and my chest constricts with the need to cry and scream at the world. At Clary for leaving me. For leaving me alone after everything.
And each time the urge to scream and rage bubbles up I begin to think of what she has gone through. How much more she's had to handle and deal with.
Then I can't even get a single word out to yell. To even whisper to her... All I do is run my fingers through her hair or hold her hand, silently praying to some god I don't believe in, to wake her up. To keep her alive.... To give me the strength to wait for her.
And whatever god lies out there.... I hope to the high heavens you don't take the person I so stupidly fell in love with at first sight....
Because whether or not you agree...She belongs to me.
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I scrape my pencil against the music sheet laying on front of me. I look to the piano and sigh as I play out the notes I had written already. I close my eyes as the melancholy notes hit my ears in a saddening song. A song filled with so much pleading and sadness that it breaks my heart to hear it again.
Even though I've played these same notes over and over... It still boggles and breaks my heart that I could write such a thing... Such a sad...sad thing...
I write of the pain of seemingly losing Clary. It's been over 6 months and the doctors doubt she will make it back....
Her 'parents' refused to pay the bills, saying that any daughter of theirs that wanted to leave the world should leave as they deserve.... And I remember the rage that had flown through my blood after I'd seen the news report on the local news. So since her parents wouldn't help with the bills, I began to pay them.
I feel the anger raging and bubbling my blood beneath my skin. My hands slam down harshly onto the keys on my piano, echoing loudly and out of tune through the quiet room. I listen as the discorded notes bounce off the walls and fade into nothing.
Her 'parents' were still recieving child support from the system... And they only spent it on clothes and booze.
I squeeze my eyes shut as my hands rest on the keys, my head bowed and shoulders scrunched in defeat. My nose scrunches as tears fall from my closed eye lids.
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YOU ARE READING
Belonging to Brooks
Short StoryLife seems perfect from the outside. Atleast for everyone else who looks at the family that Clary thought she needed and craved. The love they promised, drew her in. But growing up being thrown from foster home to foster home? She should've known...