The night she ran away, she came across a strange town called Riverdale. She couldn't shake the feeling that town gave her, so she decided to stay. She had no idea
what was in store for her. Between a new lover with pink streaks in her hair, to u...
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YOUR POV
I don't really remember how I got to this moment. Last thing I remember is falling asleep on the couch after the trial, and now I'm in a hospital waiting room. I can't get the unfazed look of Alice's face when she told me Betty just had a seizure out of my head. It was so cold, uncaring, and distant; maybe Betty is right about The Farm changing her.
"Excuse me, miss?" A voice snaps me out of my thoughts.
"Yes," I reply.
"Are you related to..." the man, who I assume is a doctor, flips a paper over, "...Elizabeth Cooper?".
"Yes," I lie.
"Well, it appears as if she has suffered from a stress induced seizure. Very rare for her age, but it happens," He pauses for a second and looks as if he is contemplating something.
"I'm aware that the first day of school is in a few hours," he gestures to the clock that reads 2:56 a.m., "and you probably want to get at least a little bit of sleep, so, seeing that she is in good condition, I will send you home. If anything occurs with her please come back immediately,".
"Thank you so much!" I exclaim, Betty would have a fit if she missed the first day of her junior year.
"Yes...just don't tell anyone about this," He says slowly.
"Of course!" I reply.
The doctor has a nurse assist me in bringing an unconscious Betty into the car, and soon I'm pulling out of the parking lot. I look over at the passenger seat as the red light of the stop light covers Betty's fair skin and I can't help feeling sorry for her and how much she has gone through. I know she doesn't want anyone's pity, but she deserves so much better than what has happened to her. A few minutes pass, the only sounds being made on the quiet, dark road is the tapping of light rain on the windows. Right when I pull into the Cooper's driveway Betty wakes up. Her eyelids flicker like a burned out light bulb and she tries to talk, but her throat prohibits her.
"Hey," I gently say.
Betty's big blue eyes meet mine. She looks at the green digital numbers on the radio's clock and she jolts in surprise.
"It's okay, you didn't miss much," I try to joke, but I get no response from the blonde.
"Where's my mother?" She croaks.
"Probably asleep," I say, trying not to think about Alice's cold face. My thoughts play the scene in my head; the smell of burnt wood, Alice's rough voice telling to bring Betty to the hospital, and the terror that rippled through my body when I saw Betty lying motionless on the ground.
