Bad Boy Brad

Still Waiting

Dictionary definition of Hope: a feeling of expectation and desire for a particular thing to happen.

Ella's definition of Hope: waiting and praying for the love of my life. All of my might in him awaking. Brad.

Ella POV

It is 4am. I haven't slept a wink. How could I? I need to hear, how the surgery turned out. That surgery could of helped or even made it worst. I just don't know. I figured that they wouldn't think anyone was still here, so I went to go look for someone. I was down a main corridor and saw the back of a doctors head. "Excuse me. But do you know if Bradley Simpson is out of his surgery?" It came out more of a whisper. He smiled at me, "Yes he is. Though he came out stronger than he did going in so that's miraculous news. But he's in a coma. He could be in that coma for the rest of his life or for even a minute. We just never know," he simply shrugged to the last bit of information he gave to me. He is probably used to this sort of news. I'm far from that. He said it could be for the rest of his life. What am I going to do? I don't really want to be the one to tell Anne.

I making my way to the room their holding Brad. I'm not allowed in the actual room so I have to watch him through the window. His curls are messy. Ruffled on his forehead. His light breathing. His chest slowly rising and falling. His pink lips still bright as ever. He looks lifeless. He looks pale and malnourished. Looking at him makes me sad. It makes me feel hurt.

I just sat outside his window all night. Waiting. Still waiting for his cocky remarks. His cheeky smile to beam. His husky voice to bellow through the room. His presence to just irritate me like it normally does. I just want Brad back.

I do love him. It hurts. Maybe before, he just scared me so I couldn't see it. All I saw in his eyes was venom and darkness. No good to be found. Then when he said his last recent words of 'your the first person I have ever loved and the last' it rings in my head. I can't get it out. Ii thought he just wanted to use me. Like he uses most girls, but he didn't want to he wanted to love me. He wanted me to be his to love and hold. It took me, for him to end up like this, in order for me to see he was telling the truth.

Anyway, I have high hopes he will wake. I've got high hopes for him and I. I'm taken out of my trance when a doctor pats me on the shoulder. "Miss. Bradley has awoken. He's been very bubbly actually. We did tests he remembers what happened. He is just in pain. He should be out of hospital in a week," he smiled over to me. That was the greatest news I have received in my whole sixteen years.

I looked through the window. He looked perfect. I should go speak to him; but I'm nervous. Who am I kidding I need to see him. He saved my life. "Erm Brad. It's me Ella," I whisper so only him and I could hear. It isn't for any particular reason, I was just to scared to speak. He turned around to look at me. Then he turned back again. It is as if he is discussed to see me. "Why are you here? Get out. I don't want you here," he spat harshly. His words makes my heart drop. My heart is literally aching at this moment. "Brad? Are you okay?" I whisper trying my upmost hardest not to let every tear spill. "What did I just say? Don't talk to me. You mean nothing to me, and you never have. I only took that bullet for the insurance. Your just a pathetic, slut," he's being so horrid. What have I actually done? "Brad! You said you loved me. I said it back and I meant it, I thought you did too and now your saying I mean nothing to you and I never have? Your a sick twisted bastard and I'm so done with all your Bull! I hope you have a happy life Bradley Simpson. All the very best," I spat, trying my hardest not to cry and I'm not. I'm not wasting my tears on him. Why should I? All I got was False Hope!