Gosh, this chapter seems short to me. I've been slightly distracted by the Olympics. Sorry all. I usually get bored by sports, but for some reason I'm just captivated by the Olympics! Strange, right? Anyways, here's the latest chapter. Hope you all enjoy! It would be very much appreciated if you would vote and give me some feedback! Thanks!
~Britt
*********************************************************************************************************
I awoke to the sound of the house phone ringing and I sat up quickly, causing a head rush. My hands clutched the sides of my head and I tried to decide if last night had been real or if it had only been a dream.
Then, with a sigh, I realized that I was in the same clothes I'd been in last night. Did Westley get me drunk, I wondered? Except, as far as I could recall, I didn't drink anything and there were no signs that I was suffering from a hangover. Not that I would know what one of those felt like...
Three days. That's what those loons had said. If they were legit, that would make this day one. The telephone rang again and I struggled to untangle myself from my bed. How on earth did I even get home? My feet became ensnared by my bed sheets and I fell to the ground with a thud.
A low groan filled my mouth and I bit back a colorful word. My yammering stopped once I'd gotten up and brushed myself off. The phone had stopped ringing and my Aunt stood in the doorway, the telephone pressed against one ear.
Her usually meticulously neat hair was slightly kinky, giving her a stressed visage. She glared at me in an inimical manner, as if everything was my fault. The mood in my room was suddenly very somber.
"My sister is dying," she announced with only a hint of emotion, her voice monotonous. She didn't even bat an eyelash. I looked at her with alarm as she lowered the phone and ended her conversation with a push of a button.
"Why didn't you get her to a doctor sooner!?" Aunt Karen yelled at me through clenched teeth. Her free hand formed a fist and it looked as if her nails would draw blood from her pale skin. Her knuckles grew white around the cordless phone.
"She wouldn't let me. She insisted she was fine!" I defended myself, blinking angry tears from my eyes. Why was she accusing me?
"You could have tried harder! I'm going to the hospital." Aunt Karen spun on the heel of her bare foot and marched away.
"Aren't you going to take me with you!?" I yelled at her, not having moved from my spot. I was answered by the sound of the garage door slamming shut and the car pulling out of the driveway.
My knees buckled and I crumpled to a heap on the floor. My eyes were shut tight, as if I could close them and reopen them to find this had all just been a horrible nightmare. Tears coursed down my face and dripped off my nose and chin onto the carpet.
I pounded my head on the floor in distress. Sobs racked my body and I struggled to breathe through the knot in my throat.There was a tap on the wall and my head snapped up. Westley stood in the door frame to my room, a concerned look on his face.
"Your Aunt waved me in as she was leaving. She looked pretty upset." Westley explained, running his hand through his hair. I sniffled, wiping snot from my nose with the sleeve of my shirt, and sat up. He walked over to me, sat down, and threw one muscular arm casually around my shoulder.
"You disappeared on me last night..." I whispered, my thoughts suddenly gravitated to that fact. "Where did you go?"
"Actually," he said quietly, "I fell asleep and when I woke up, you were gone. Maybe you slept walked home?"