His Hidden Secrets || a.i.

Chapter Ninteen:

Evee's P.O.V:

I hurriedly followed Ashton through the doors of the hospital. Almost instantly the sour smells of antibiotics and cleaning supplies wafted through my nose, giving me a slight headache.

Ashton continued to run. So I continued to follow him.

I finally caught up with him once he had reached the receptionist's desk. He was shaking pretty badly, and most of the lobby was starring at us. But we didn't care one bit.

He was frantic at the moment, as well as I, but I controlled it a bit better. 

"Clifhurd..Michuell. Wuuhat rooma?" he choked out. Most of his words were not clear though, so I spoke for him. "Could you please tell us what room Michael Clifford is in?" I grabbed his hand, hoping to calm him down a bit. But nothing was helping.

The woman began to type away on her computer, searching for our desired information. I looked to Ashton to see his big blurry green eyes forming with tears. He was sweating, and panting uncontrollably.

"Ashton, calm-"

"Room 317," the woman said more than annoyed. I gave her a look, just before Ashton took off down the hallway. Making my way after him, I noticed a few patients with crutches, and neck guards. Some were cringing in pain as they tried to walk, while others looked as if their time was soon. My heart tried to absorb all of my view, but I couldn't mend it to.

Looking forward, I didn't see Ashton. 

Shit, I thought.

I jogged down the halls looking for room 317.

..313

..315

..317

I stopped, feeling as if my stomach was about to fall though the floor.

But I stepped through the open door anyway.

Hearts shouldn't have to go through this, I thought.

Looking around the room, I heard machines beeping rapidly, as they were hooked up to the green haired lads body. He wore a hospital gown, and a head wrap. Gauze scattered in various places on his body, and stitches just above his left eyebrow. His lips were blue, and his skin white.

He looked torn, beaten, and he slightly resembled a ghost.

I felt the first tear slide down my cheek.

Ashton and Luke were both draped over his bed, crying and whispering soft comments to the unconscious boy. Calum sat off in the corner of the room, his knees pulled to his chest. He rocked back and forth slowly, and his body shook.

I couldn't bring myself to move; I could only watch the scene in front of me. 

Michael was hit by a truck only an hour ago, and his condition wasn't that great. 

He wasn't going to die they had said, but it was a miracle if he woke anytime soon.

I was sitting with Ashton, having a delicious taco dinner when we head the phone ring. Ashton let it be, assuming it was less important than dinner with me, he said. I just nodded, as we went on with dinner. But the phone continued to ring, so Ashton finally answered.

Ashton's half of the call was all I had heard.

"Hey Lukey!"

"Michael what?"

"W-what?"

"Is he okay?!"

"Where are you?!"