I opened my sore eyes, squinting in pain at the bright florescent lights overhead. I turned my head, listening to the rhythmic beeps. I coughed, my mouth dry like a desert. I looked around, not recognizing the white room. I looked down at my arms feeling a sharp pain.
The beeps grew faster and louder as I began to panic. My arms were wrapped in large white bandages, strapped into the hospital bed. A nurse ran into the room, sitting on the edge of my bed.
"Sanchez?" I pushed the raspy sandpaper words out as I looked at the familiar woman.
She nodded, grabbing my hand. "It's okay, Marty, you're okay." She unstrapped one of my arms, handing me some water.
I took a gulp, suddenly feeling nauseous. I moved my hand to my mouth, trying to keep from gagging. My hand brushed against my nose, feeling the bruises around my nostrils.
"We had to pump your stomach. Your nose will bleed for a couple of days. Took three hours to sow your wrist up and get all those pills out." She stood up, rubbing her small hand under her eye. "Do you still want to die?"
I shrugged, feeling my arm move inside the soft cuff. The tall brunette grabbed my free hand. "Marty, you're like my second son. I want to see you do something with your life, but I can't do that if you kill yourself at 15."
She remained silent for a second. "Did you even think about Randall? Your dad? What about your brothers and sisters? "
"I'm sorry." I whispered.
I sat up, feeling dizzy and sore. I rolled over, feeling Randall beside me. I moved my sore legs off the bed, stumbling to the ground. "Randall." I whispered, pulling my pant leg up. The bandages were brown with blood. "Randall, wake up." I pulled myself up, leaning against the wall.
I pushed myself forward, pushing my hands against his back. He slowly moved to sit up, groaning. I grabbed my gun, from my spot on the bed, pointing it towards him.
A loud choke escaped Randall's lungs. His arm reached out, knocking his glasses off the bedside table. I held the gun, trembling with the thought of shooting my only friend in the world.
The body moved to the floor. "Fuck!" He whispered. I dropped the gun, leaning back against the wall.
I grabbed the rubbing alcohol and bandages off the table beside the bed, pouring the liquid on my exposed wound. I winced in pain, wiping away the bubbles with the blanket. I re-wrapped the injury, hoping it'd get better.
"We need to get back to the road." I whispered, leaning forward to grab the gun from the wood floor.
He stood up, pushing the broken frames up his nose. He grabbed the backpack, moving out of the room. I followed him quietly, walking out of the house through the backyard.
The sun was high in the sky already, covered by clouds. It was cold, a breeze blowing against us, slowing us down. Our tired, sore legs carried us for an hour out of any sign of civilization.
An engine was approaching the loud sound, traveling in the wind. A truck slammed on their breaks, stopping just past us.
I turned around, looking at the familiar truck. "Marty!" A small body jumped out of the car, falling to the ground fall below it. "Randall!"
She stood up, flipping her hair over her shoulder. I moved my glasses, checking they were on and working. She ran over to me, her thin arms wrapping around me, knocking me to the ground. Tears were pouring down her cheeks, as she moved back sobbing an apology out.
"What the hell are you doing out here?" I asked, feeling my eyes welling up with my own tears. She pushed her face into my chest, holding me on the ground.
Kennon climbed out of the driver seat, looking at the three of us. He held a gun in his hand, tucking it into his holster. I looked down to my sister, her long hair a wild mess. "Why were you with him?"
She shook her head, ignoring the question. "We thought you were dead." She moved back, wiping her eyes, "Are you okay?"
I looked down at my leg, feeling it ache with pain. I shook my head yes, looking to Randall and his broken glasses. "We're fine. Can we go home?"
My sister nodded, standing up. I struggled to my feet, letting her walk ahead of me, to hide my limp. Kennon moved to my side, helping me to his side of the car.
"What happened?" He whispered, glancing at my leg.
"It's not a bite, I'm fine." I pulled the door open, crawling into the backseat beside Randall.
The engine started, turning into a long driveway to turn around. I felt my head hit the glass of the window, my eyes slamming shut.
YOU ARE READING
To The Grave
HorrorI had never seen the stars, not in their full glory. Lights across miles and miles of towns created a thick layer of light pollution blocking out most traces of the universe surrounding us. Now I could look up and see every star. I flicked cigarett...
