Phoebe's POV:
I saw my dad pacing the room with his arms crossed behind his back.
I knew he was worried about me. But I also knew that he was plotting on how to kill Archer.
He was trying to get past his feelings about killing a defenseless person who's in a coma, I could tell. As he came into my vision while he paced, I could feel the tension radiating off of him. But I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. I didn't even have the strength to shift my eyes. No, correction. It wasn't that I didn't have the strength. It was the fact that my body refused to work anymore.
Archer killed someone today. Mauled the man, in cold blood. It was as if something had taken over his body as he had been beaten, broken and bloody. Long after the drug had worn off, I could only stand there and watch.
He was the one who kissed my finger, after my dad pulled a splinter out.
He was the one who was there for me and fought beside me, even when I was the person who started it.
He was the one who kept me sane, when my mother died and my father became a as empty as a conch shell that you can hear the ocean in.
He was, no is, my best friend. Yet I couldn't help but be very, very afraid of him.
And that was the final straw for my mind. It sort of crashed in order to protect itself before it just burst into tiny little pieces.
The nurse came with a needle. I couldn't even cringe away as she deftly reached for my arm, her hands soft as a butterfly's touch as she lifted up my sleeve, swiped it with alcohol and stuck it in. My dad, who probably already knew what this thing was going to do, watched like a hawk as she pressed a small bandaid to it and forced me to lay back on the bed. She smoothed my fingers so that they weren't biting into the skin of my palm anymore and forced me out of the fetal position that I had immediately taken to. It was calming; so what if I looked like a mental case?
"There you go sweetheart." She kissed my forehead. If I were normal, I would've stuck my tongue out at her. Who did she think she was anyway?
She turned to my dad, oblivious to the thoughts running through my head. "She should be out like a light in less than three minutes."
No. No, no, oh dear god please no.
I fought against conciousness, but in the end, the sleep took over.
And that's when the nightmares began.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm not going to include this in the next chapter, instead it'll just progress. Our characters are going to get older too! And the next one should be up by Saturday...sorry for the lateness, you'll never believe the crap that's been going on.
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By Your Side. (Sequel to Art Girl and Wolf Boy)
Ficção AdolescentePhoebe Castro has known Archer Connor for her entire life. Literally. He's her rock, he's the one who speaks up for her, and she's slowly but surely falling in love with him. The problem? He's two years older than her and thinks of her as a "little...
