Meet Me Under The Mistletoe {BxB}

Chapter 27

WARNING: You might actually hate or feel disturbed by Owen's thoughts. His head is pretty messed up.

Owen Keir

This was fun.

At least everyone was giving me the attention I had craved for for so long.

The principle, my parents, the medics, even a policeman.

I smiled as the beautiful nurse, who my pervet eyes couldn't stop checking out, prescribed some medicine for my possible head concussion.

She glared at me when she clearly saw I wasn't listening. Not my fault that she was smoking hot.

She finally got out of the small cubicle covered with blue curtains, leaving me to my thoughts.

Probably everyone knew what I had done by now. Not that I cared or anything. I wasn't going to try and justify myself to anyone.

I had felt like punching someone, so that's what I had done. Simple and clear.

My parents probably hate me.

I thought to myself.

Who wouldn't though. I was some messed up kid but you know what, I was not about to wallow myself in self pity.

I stared at the ceiling, loving how the patterns were traced over it. I also loved the hospital smell. It was comforting and simply reminded me of my bandaged knuckles.

I had broken a few fingers but that didn't matter, I still had my left one's.

Man I was sick.

I broke out into a throaty laugh loving how the situation felt ironical. While people inthe ER were crying and injured, here I was laughing my ass out.

I couldn't care any less.

One disturbing thought made me squirm on the bed I had been laying on though;

I wish I had injured that Correy kid.

Maybe then he would stop medling in my business.

Stupid kid.

°~~~~~~~~~~°

I had been subjected to two weeks in a cell. My parents of course had refused to bail me out. Couldn't blame them.

I also had two hundred days of community service. Two hundred.. I think they exaggerated. Still couldn't blame them.

On top of all that I had to see a therapist. Under strict supervision from a police officer. Not that bad. Hmmm
...

My numbered cell days weren't that boring. I enjoyed every single bit of it. I even made a friend. A forty something year old man who had allegedly been associated with drug trafficking and was awaiting trial. He was pretty cool.

When the two weeks were over, I could not help but feel bad for leaving the place.

°~~~~~~~~~~°

"What were you thinking? Owen we have tried everything, everything..."

I wish the old man could just shut up and let this slide.

I was currently at home, receiving the same old lecture from my parents. I mean, I knew it by heart by now.

"... do you want to kill us. What d-do... "

He stopped as tears trickled down his face.

Okay things just got awkward.

In the eighteen years of my life, I have never seen my dad cry.

Mum slowly stood, patting his back as she gazed at me with a similar tearing face.

I almost felt guilty.

Mark my words... almost.

I stared at them as they left the room, tugging at my blonde locks.

What now?