You looked like death warmed over.
I didn't know it yet, but this wouldn’t be the worst condition you'd ever be in. There was still the worst one yet when we were fifteen. It wasn't quite all over your body like that time we were twelve, but it was the worst one because it took away your identity.
But here now, you were lying in the hospital bed. You father wasn't around, your mother was at the front office, and I was sitting there right beside you, watching the way your chest rose and fell. A cast was set around your left arm, bandages around your head, black and blue bruises around your neck. I wondered absently what they'd told the doctor about those bruises. I wondered if anyone believed that bullshit.
“Did you call anyone?”
I must have dozed off because you were suddenly awake and the sun was high on the horizon. I looked out to the window, then back to your inquisitive hazel eyes, much darker now under the sedative.
I said to you, “No.”
Your fingers moved under the covers. I reached to hold them in mine.
“Practice your violin at my place,” I murmured to your ears, “I can keep it safe for you.”
You gave me that wistful little smile before you fell right back sleep. I wondered sometimes if it was just another nightmare.
YOU ARE READING
Wearing My Smile | ✔
Teen Fiction"I wondered if you'd ever thought that the name your parents had given you felt like sharp knife twisting through your heart in its prayer. I'd never asked you that before, now I'd never get to." Having been together since forever, Roo struggles in...
