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Restless Swans

Novel By: ReneRSalmon
Horror



Timthony is a boy who is being bullied by some people and he's quite sick of it. He begins talking to this girl in order to get away from his problems. View table of contents...


Chapters:

1 2 3 4 5

Submitted:Jan 31, 2013    Reads: 7    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


Chapter Four

I was running the next day. I was running and running as fast as I could from the boys who tormented me so. Why I was running and why was I scared out of my mind? Simple is the answer; let me just explain a little on the subject. I will have to start from the beginning of the day, a day that I will not soon forget at all. Then again, I don't forget anything.

You see I was taking a stroll after some session at my theory and I ran into those kids by the names of Andy, Cal, and Sam just outside of the drug store. I didn't want anything to do that day, and I was hoping that they didn't start anything, mainly because I wasn't in the mood for bullshit. Please, excuse my language, but try to understand the vastness of the situation. I saw how they watched me walked from the outside of the store's door, as the day nearly came to a close.

I watched them right back, and kept my distance on the outside of the sidewalk. The meters were dimming and their eyes were skimming me, every little inch. My hands were in my pocket, wrapped around my black handled switch blade, stinging my fingers, almost chilling to the bone that I was already considering to thrust my six inch stainless steel blade deep inside their bowels.

I walked passed them not to long after that thought, and it was rather clear that they were here to jump me, beat me, maim me as far as they could think of, but I wasn't going to let them. I wasn't going to let myself be driven to the point of insanity just because someone was going to get a slight thrill of insulting me and tying me up, then considering the thought of maybe killing me. No, they were not going to hurt me or anyone, not this time. If they were going to attack me, I will not hesitate to hurt them or anyone else who stands in my way to stop bulling from happening, because yesterday's jumping was too far. They will never do that to someone anymore. They assaulted that poor kid for nothing, merely a few quarters and some answers for a test.

There was nothing though. They didn't do anything to me, as if they knew something was going to happen. Andy watched me carefully; I could feel his eyes piercing the back of my head. I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw a car speed by in front of me, only to come to a direct stop in the middle of the four way intersection, but there was a slight silence. Then, out of nowhere, from the depths of my sight, a loud crash erupted from the middle of the section.

I turned and saw the red sedan turned over. There was blood on the edge of the windows with the cracked glass, and the dented metal shell of the car. The smoke was a thick mass that came up from the top of the over turned red sedan. The other car, a blue Mustang wasn't as lucky as to surviving. Its hood was completely pushed into the passenger's seat. Its engine was completely a flame and the hands of the people inside were hanging out the windows in twisted maggot fashions.

My posture was firm as I turned to the side and saw Andy looking at me in an outraged expression. I didn't figure out why, neither could I figure out what was going on because he was starting, followed by Sam and Cal, to go at me with his fists closed. I had no choice, but to prepare myself when we got up in my face, violating my personal space by many inches.

I viewed his eyes, directly into his pupils, wondering what he was going to do next. Personally, I was afraid, who wouldn't be, but I know I had to stand up and face my fears, mainly because all of this is just getting chaotic. I didn't know why he wasn't concerned about the wreck, as I was, but it wasn't going to matter anytime soon.

His eyes were filled with anger, as his face was. I looked at him directly in the eyes, making my statement firm that I wasn't about to go anywhere. I was already up to it when Andy spoke. "You didn't see anything." His voice was a strict sounding with a hint of deadly urgings. "What did you see?"

"What do you mean what did I see?" I questioned him right back.

"What did you see?" Andy repeated.

"Yeah, what did you see, punk?" Cal interrupted.

"What are you talking about?" I honestly didn't know what they were talking about at the moment.

"Did you see what we did?" Andy grabbed the front of my shirt.

Reflex kicked it, and I pushed him back. It was unintended, but it got the message across that I didn't want to be messed with. "No, I don't know what you did, now fuck off!" Now this was not my intention.

"You've asked for it punk," Andy said, pushing me right back. "You're in a world of shit from now on, and that red head or blond isn't here to protect you now." He pushed me again.

I adjusted my stance, and walked back from him. "Look, I've told you before. I don't want any problems, but continue and you'd be in a world of shit." I needed to keep my world strong, so I pushed him right back. "Fuck off, asshole!" I was screaming now, and it was a pretty sight. Sweat ran down the side of my temple, as I braced myself.

I saw Cal and Sam stay behind, about several feet from Andy. I believed that they knew that something was going to happen, but what was it? I couldn't really put my finger on it, but I knew one of us will come out hurt.

Andy launched himself towards me, fist first. Instinctively I ducked down, dodging the blow by mere centimeters. I stepped forward and threw a punch myself, jabbing him in the gut, then I heard a loud gasp. I knew I hit him properly, and I knew that I did some damage to his diaphragm. When I stepped back, I looked quick and throw another, which he blocked, and got a hit on me right on the cheek bone. I stepped back.

Andy was trying to catch his breath, and he knew he needed to get it fast before I got back on my feet, which I already had done. Now it was my turn to return the hit. I throw a right hook, then a left jab, hitting straight in the nose. He wasn't expecting this at all because Andy gave out a slight whimpering jolt of a petite shout. I throw again and again, hitting right on the face and throat, then rib cage. I grabbed his loose arm, and urged forward, pulling him along with me. Andy swung around and was tossed onto the floor.

Andy laid there, his face all bloody, and bruised. I wasn't merciful this time, not ever again. He's lucky that I don't kill him. He's lucky that he didn't suffer as much as I did; all those time that they beat me constantly along the fence in the play ground, bashing my head against the floor, and telling me to die, that I was worthless. No, not ever again they will hurt me. These assholes will be dead to me and to everyone else soon enough. "Pitiful prick," I murmured under my breath, soon catching it.

"Andy!" Cal shouted running to his friend, who was now moaning out in pain. "You're an asshole!" This was addressed to me. I didn't care much.

I lit up a cigarette and watch as he and Sam picked him up then begins to drag Andy away. Sam then exclaimed in anger. "You're going to pay for this weather you like it or not."

I exhaled the smoke. "Come for me, motherfucker. Come for me, and see what will happen." I took another drag of my cigarette.

Need I state that this was a stressful event for me? Scary, of course, but nevertheless, I felt relieved; I felt extremely achieved at my success. I watched how he was dragged off, and placed in his car, followed by the slamming of car door. The alley had never felt so like home. Never before has a rundown neighborhood been such a relaxing sanctuary of peaceful tranquility. Ha, god how I'd love to drive my switch blade deep inside of him, and twist his insides, and expose his interiors just to show Andy, Cal, and Sam that we were all the same…from the inside out.

But then, there was a flash, and I was seeing shoes. They were white Nike, but the front of the tips were stained a scarlet red of a substance I learned to be blood. It was mine. It was always mine. I was on the floor. Me, no one else was right there sitting next to me. I didn't know what to make of it.

I reached up and felt my cheek where it lay, and I felt swelling and immense pain. That's when the sound came. It came so suddenly that I didn't know what to make of it. How could I be on the floor? I knew that I had won. I was aware that I was the who made him fall on the floor basically crying, but no I was the one that was on the floor, never again going to see the light, but then again, who would stand up after what I just experienced? No, one, that's who would.

The sound erupted in my ears like a siren that just burst out its vast sounding screeching call once it was activated in the call of distress by the call in. It was the laughter, the laughter of many people in a circle around me, mocking me over fact that I had lost my fight. They were all the students of my school. All of them were my class mates and most were the ones that I helped out when they were in distress. How could they do this to me?

I saw several of my old class mates. Amy, Sammy, Dan, Alice, Jim, Richard, Anthony, all of them were laughing at me. They were the once who I stood up for in the middle of class when Cal, Sam and Andy beat on them. I took the beating for them. How could they do this to me? Why didn't they help me? What was their problem with me? Was I merely someone that deserved to be tormented like I am? Please, someone…anyone…help me now? I begged and begged in a silent squeamish manner, and those kids merely laughed even harder.

"You see, Carter," Andy's voice was announcing from behind, and then I noticed that he was in front of me. Cal and Sam picked me up and held me, holding my eyes open so I could see Andy's eyes directly in the face. "No one likes you. All of these were once your friends, maybe even more, and now they are on my side. They dragged you here and let me and my gang beat on you till you died. They let you be abused to the point of death, and merely watched in what you call 'an absolute horrific manner of uttered disgust' and yet they all filmed. You put up a good fight don't get me wrong, but you were no match for the three of us. You deserved it, as I was offended by you ones called 'scum'." He smacked me across the jaw and I held my breath. Every one of those kids was now cheering and shouting things to kill me, to maim me even more. I was dazed, too dazed, to even do anything to defend myself, to over powered. "You're kind disgust me. You all don't deserved to live, you putrid agonist." I was unaware if he knew the definition of that usage of that term, but I really didn't care.

"At what cost must I say that I did nothing to you, or anyone," I whispered.

"You exist, you disgusting piece of shit! That's the reason why. I thought you were smart, Timmy." He placed his forefinger on my chin then flicked forward and with his long nail I was scratched. "You were meant to die, and the fact that you helped kill my uncle was even worse. It added to the price, to your 'penance'."

What was I to do now? I watched as Andy pulled out a cigarette from my pack, and lit it. He took a long slow drag, and exhaled unto my face. Andy's smile was one I had, I knew that smile. It was the smile that I had when was victorious at something. "You're one hell of a fight kid; you messed me up pretty bad earlier today, but I told you that we'd make you pay regardless of what you do, Carter, you'll never be accepted in society.

I knew from the day you came to our school you were destined to suffer by my hand. My disciples and I will torment you whenever we get the chance." His voice was sterner this time. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. What was he talking about was what I was trying to comprehend. "Remember who we are, always remember, never forget, because in seven days time we will return, and you will suffer."

Now I knew for sure what I was dealing with. He was crazy, but that's besides what I was trying to figure out even more. How did I get here? How did I end up on the floor? These questions were more important and need answering, not what was going on with Andy, and his religious sermon on my type of people, which I didn't understand how we were different. I was aware that this was a hate crime. I knew that this was messed up none the less, but where was everyone?

"You know, Timmy," Andy said after like several minute of silence. The cheer silenced then he spoke again. "I told you that we'd get revenge." This was the second time that he said this. "You should've been watching your back in the alley way, but unfortunately you didn't, and now look where you are, in a shit hole unknown place that…"

There was a loud noise coming from the out skirts of the perimeter, and the entire group looked around in stunned silence. There were gasps and there was some sort of commotion coming from the distance that was like some sort of loud cry of agonizing metallic screeches. Loud annoying screams from all around erupted soon from the days.

Cal and Sam's grip tighten, for some reason, I knew it wouldn't last that long. The instinct held in when I heard the disgusting splats of a liquid hitting the floor or wall. All of the kids that were around me were now running squirming from the sound of what I came to the realization of being sirens, sirens of police cars. Cal and Sam let go of me and I fell to the ground hard. I wasn't about to run, but when I heard someone shouting. "You're all under arrest!" from behind me, I wasn't exactly up for going to jail for someone else's deed.

Well, there you have it. This is the reason why I was running. A little more description would end up saying that I was running through the vastness of thick dried up tree and all. The twigs and gravel crunching on the bottom of my shoes didn't make it anymore easier for getting away, because they brought out dogs. Their barks were echoing all throughout the banks of the river, where I was running along right now.

I was evading in any way possible to be able to get away so desperately attempting. I didn't know what to do when I saw something so strange in the corner of my eye, an emerald green shine that radiated from the river's small lake that it filled out into before leaving again into a much larger river. It glowed with an iridescent figure and magnified the scene from which I was watching.

I glanced and watched it for one moment, then without any form of a warning there was a snap and the next thing I know, I'm falling and tumbling over the spiked tree branches that had fallen unto the floor. It didn't make it any better that I was already pretty messed up and all from today's earlier event, but nevertheless, I did not see the branches that were above the log that I had jumped over in some unsought through plan of mine.

Now as I laid there on the floor, as the dogs barks were getting much closer, I saw what was causing the glow. It was two swans, one black and the other was white. They danced on the water with majestic motions making circles of several sizes. The water began to glow an emerald green. Never have I ever seen something that beautiful in my entire life. In these vast years that I have lived through and suffered through, I had found the most beautiful sight that I had ever seen. My eyes just watched as my vision began to blur then darken. How I wondered if this is how it feels to die was beyond me, but if this was the way, I'll say that it is the best blissful epiphany of happiness that I've ever achieved. Now the next thing that I know everything begins to fade to black…

It wasn't too long after when I came to. It was obvious where I was at. I could feel it in the back of my mind but nevertheless that lingering curiosity in the back of my mind when you pass out and you're just wondering what happened. I saw things coming to light and there was a light that was one the edge of my eye sight. It beamed extremely bright, almost too bright, for the eyes to handle. It was a light reddish light that blended into a whitish grey. It stung at so irritatingly, painfully, and bright. Everything was moving sideways, up and down, in circular motions with a blurred image till it finally settled and I saw clearly.

I was in an office, no doubt about that, with the police sirens in the background of everything and every little turn seemed like there was nothing but case scenarios and of beat down looking people with beards and puffing eyes like it was a tear jerking style to go and ball out a river on how red they were red.

"Well, well, well," a voice from behind said. It was a deep voice of a man, most likely in his thirty's and African American. I could tell that he was a big man with broad shoulders and a narrow stare that could most likely pierce through you. "Look who's finally awake."

I saw up and watch as the man I had just described sit down with a folder right in front of him on his desk like you normally see in every cop film or show. I sat up and looked him dead in the eyes, wondering what he was suppose to do, or what he was going to do. I didn't really understand it, but every mood he made was predictable to every extent, like the ways he saw me and the ways that he gestured to the way made eye contact like every cop or officer does. It was the same routine for every cop judging by it. I did not know where I got these ideas from, but I was certain that it was spot on. I can see that he rehearsed thing several times right before walking in to the room.

I waited for him to continue saying his mighty lecture, and the headache wasn't helping me cope with any of this. I was getting frustrated by the simplest of things, that ticking off the clock and the tapping of his shoe on the floor under the desk. Everything made a trickle of sweat fall down the side of my temple, or maybe it was just the fact that I had just woke up from a blackout. I didn't understand why I was here instead of in the hospital. I assume they thought that I was healthy enough to not be in the hospital.

"You gave us quite a scare, Mr. Carter," the officer said looking at me. "We were wondering if you were going to make it. Good thing that we had the ambulance nearby."

"I don't understand why I'm not in a hospital instead of here," I finally said, wonderingly nonetheless, but I wasn't ready to go out just yet (this was a figure of speech).

"Don't you worry about that we had someone come over and check you out to see if you weren't dead and look at you, still alive and curious as ever." The officer was happy in a sort of curious way. It wasn't as clear as to why he was using so much sarcasm.

"We have our reason, Mr. Carter, but you in good enough shape to remain conscience enough. Those are just bruises and small cuts. You'll live."

"Pretty cruel for something a cop would say." I watched him and made eye contact directly in the eye, waiting for him to say something that would cause me to snap.

He then stared at me again. "Well, what do you expect; it's been one hell of a day for us. Then again I wonder how it was for you. What were you doing in the premises?"

Well, I had to answer the truth because these guys will humiliate you in any way they can so that you will look disgraceful to the rest of the city. "I had gotten into a fight that day with one of the boys and he and his group caught me off guard then took me there. From what I was aware of, I assumed they tortured me or something, because simple cuts and all like this don't come out of nowhere. Now, I'd appreciate it if you took me to a hospital before I die of infection."

"Well, isn't that interesting, because the boys you're talking about say that you were the one that attacked them, then you took them to the site then tormented them, along with an entire group of people. Now, don't call me a liar, but they stated their story thoroughly." As I knew it, the cop would always side with the bad side of things. Then again, they've always done this; ever since I got into trouble with the law involving my father, all they did was never side with me, even though I was saying the truth.

"Well, don't believe me, but it's the truth, Officer Jackson. You've always done this to me, regardless of any situation you put me under; it's always me as the accused." I stated this firmly, as I felt my eyebrow drip down a drop of blood. "If I wasn't any 'stupider', I'd say that you were paid off to cover up something that always ended up with me as the accused, because let's face the facts, in every situation that involves me and Andy and his gang it always ends up me being the accused and them the innocent, and frankly, I'm quite tired of it." I stood and reached into my pocket, hoping that my cell phone was still intact, which with my luck would not be, but this time fate favored me, so I pulled it out with ease. "Now, if you excuse me, I'm a call my lawyer, because I'm in need of some medical attention and you refuse to give it to me out of your stubbornness and stupidity."

"Fine, fine," Officer Jackson said in a stern voice. "But first answer me the question, what were you doing on the premises of the crime?"

"I was taken there against my will and obviously beaten," I replied. "I don't know how well educated you are in criminal justice, but I'm finding it rather hard to believe that you passed the written portion of the exam." I was, in fact, upset to the point of beating him, but I wasn't going to assault an officer.

Officer Jackson stood up and looked at me in the eyes upset, trying to be little me as I suspected. "What did you say, punk?"

"Oh, I'm sorry Officer, did I pinch a nerve," I looked at him directly into his dark eyes, chuckling at his attempt to make himself look bigger. "What are you going to do, assault me, and then arrest me saying I assaulted you first? You may only arrest a bunch of, oh what was the word you used, oh yeah, punks, but know this, Officer Jackson, I am no punk." I turned around and walked out. "You do not scare me and never will. Just know that I am not who you think I am. Now go out there and arrest those assholes before I go and file a lawsuit against you all for being paid off to torment me."

I walked out of the office and out the door into the street, walking home as I intended on doing. I noticed the clock was so off on my watch, which now had a blood stain and crack on it. It couldn't be three in the morning, so I just walked on expecting some of the cars that would normally pass by every few seconds would do so, but as I continued on walking, they never did. The street lights were on and the eeriness of the subject was already getting to me. I could see that well, and I came to a conclusion. It was extremely late and I had no idea what my mother was going to say when I got home, and judging by where I was, my home was on the other side of the city, about ten to twelve miles.

I began the journey back home. It was an exhausting walk, having been beaten to nearly death and having been abandoned by today's "top-notch" cops. I had to make it at least to the hospital and get treated for my wounds. Right now, that was on my mind, not getting home, not my friends or family, just getting help so I won't get any infections and die. I hurried myself on towards the hospital on the corner of Jackson Avenue and Maples Lane. Personally, I couldn't imagine myself running all the way over there, so I stopped at a nearby gas station, the Lucky 8's, after realizing that I didn't have my cell-phone.

I clerk inside was a calm looking man with long brown hair and small mustache. He glanced at me as I leaned on the counter with my arm on it, having it been cut up from the days earlier activity. He wasn't that much older than I was and to come to think of it, I believe he went to school with me. I believed I had him for third period, English IV, but I couldn't put it together. I did know that his name was Paul, and judging by his facial expression, he was frankly too shocked to even say anything.

"Excuse me, man," I asked in a panting voice, having walked at least five miles to get here. The roads were filled with such a light brush of trees and the gravel of the roads didn't make it any better, but simply exhausting to the point. "Can I borrow a phone?"

"Yeah, sure, man," Paul, as referred to on his 'Hi, my name is…' card on his chest. He bent down and pulled out a phone and pressed 9. This was to let the call go through. Paul handed it to me and said in a concerned voice. "Are you alright?"

I took the phone and dialed in the number. "As you can see, no I'm not." I replied solemnly. The ringing began to enter my ears. I dialed in Carry's number, hoping she would answer. I had tried my mother at first, but as usual she didn't answer, even when my father had died, she didn't answer; I must've called several times. I waited for like three rings until Carry finally answered the phone.

"Hello," her voice was tired. "Who's this?"

"Carry, it's me Timmy," I answered lowly into the phone's receiver. "Can you come to pick me up and take me to the hospital?"

"What, what the hell happened!?" Carry shouted. "Where the hell are you?"

"I'm at the gas station about five miles away from the police station." I said softly, trying to anger her more. "So, you think you can come and pick me up?"

"It's three in the damn morning. Never mind, I'm on my way. You have some major explaining to do to me and your mother, because I'm picking her up too." Carry shouted into the phone. I heard the door slam on the other side of the phone, and just as the happened Carry said. "I'm on my way. You owe me big time!" The phone ended.

I looked at Paul, who was glancing at me in a scared expression. He was looking at me in the eyes. Paul's next saying was: "So I take it your girlfriend's mad?"

"She's not my girlfriend, and you have no idea," I replied, grabbing some tic-tacks from the side of the counter. "How much are these?" I wasn't worried about my breath if that's what you're thinking. I just wanted the taste of blood out of my mouth, which had a deep iron sensation to the back of my tongue. Personally, I could care less what Carry thought of my breath at the moment. Personally, I just wanted to get to the hospital and get myself patched up, because you never know what is damaged on the inside of your system.

For example, I had this throbbing pain on the side of my chest. I suspected it to be a broken rib or something of that sort, or a bruised rib, I wasn't exactly sure. It stung and felt as if something was piercing my side and itching under my skin, in such a devastating, most annoying way possible to keep me from snapping and hitting someone in the face.

"Well, those are a dollar?" Paul replied.

I reached into my pocket and felt a sharp poke on my side. I flinched and then I pulled out the only remaining dollar that was hiding in the depths of my pocket. I handed him the blood covered dollar and opened the packet of tic-tacks, and ate a few. They rang with the orange flavor that I was expecting. "Thanks man." I walked out of the gasoline station.

I waited there in the darkness, wondering how long it would take Carry, and my mom…wait…my mother, oh damn, well this isn't going to end well. I knew the first thing that Carry would do is smack me across the head and call me an idiot, then my mother would do the same for 'scaring' her. I knew they cared, but they needed to learn that I wasn't a mere child anymore. I just came to a point in my life where I could be more independent with things, if I was simply given the chance. Well, I believe I had the chance, but I assume that I 'blew it'.

I waited anxiously for Carry, and my mother. The night seemed to drag and wouldn't cease to torment me with the inner guilt that I felt in the depth of my stomach. It was hard to believe that only ten minutes had passed, though it seemed like an hour, no to be more correct, several hours. I've learned that time and guilt does not mix in any sense of any subject especially when something like this has occurred.

It must have been at least ten more agonizing, nerve wrecking minutes until a white Torres pulled up into the parking lot. By this time, the streets were completely empty, and the day was almost upon us. Soon it'll be Monday, and I'd be face to face in even more drama with Andy and his gang. Now that I know who is on my side, I know who to stay away from, but why I was wondering about Monday was beyond me, but I knew something on that day was to change my life forever, and ever.

"Timmy," Carry shouted out as the door opened, and she ran to me, throwing her arms around me. This was obviously, though predictable, through me off by surprise. Like I said before, I was expecting more of a beating. "Are you ok?"

"Yes, Carry, I'm fine," I replied patting her back for reassurance. "Can we please head out to the hospital? I'm in pain, if you aren't aware."

"Honey, what the hell happened to you?" Carry asked assisting me to car, as she opened the passenger door for me.

"I got into a bit of 'play-date' with some old friends," I entered the vehicle and sat down on the seat, waiting for my mother's soon coming tantrum.

"Was it Andy and his gang? God damn it, this is the second time you get into problems with them. I told you to stay away from them," Carry summed this up after sitting in the driver's seat and drove off. "Don't you ever listen to me, Timmy?"

"Of course, I do," I admitted in a stern tone. "I was just caught off guard; it's just a few cuts and bruises."

"Cuts, and bruises, my ass, you do. If you did, you wouldn't be in this mess. Look at you; I can't even look at you. You look so horrible. You may be the only friend I really care about, but that doesn't mean you have to ignore me every time that I try and get you out of trouble."

"I wasn't trying to get into trouble, and I've listened to you for the last few half years and all." I looked at her. It was the truth; I tried to stay out of trouble, but I didn't do anything this time."

"Look, Timmy, I don't care who started what, the point is you got in this, and now I have to be driving you at three in the morning, so you can be ok."

I looked into her eyes through the rear view mirror. She was tearing up and I couldn't really help, but wonder why. It was such a strange sight seeing someone cry for you, and I didn't know what to do. I was honestly dumbstruck over such a sight. I knew she was any point of breaking down, because Carry's voice trembled as I said. "Carry, why do you care about me so much?"

"Because…because I just do, sweetie. I don't know, well, yes I do, but I just can't say, because I don't want to lose you," Carry's tear rolled slightly down her cheek. It gleamed gold over the dimly, lit light posts that surround the streets of asphalt. It then shined and then just stayed there on the bottom of her chin. Her skin, so smooth and warm, just held it there.

"Why wouldn't you want to lose me, but a more interesting question would be why would you lose me?"

"Timmy, I just really care about you and you know it. I know that you don't feel the same way towards me, and I respect that, but I can't keep myself from caring about you."

I didn't really understand that last statement, and I wasn't about to ask what she meant, because knowing Carry, I knew that she didn't mean what I am thinking, so I wasn't going to bother. It was still really strange for me to have someone care for me. All I've ever gotten from my friends was that I was a piece of shit that didn't deserve to live. Well, of course, I don't associate with them anymore. I was always the different one in many ways; thinking was one of the major things that separated me from my 'friends', but nevertheless Carry and Ryan were the ones that stayed on my side and that's what really mattered to me.

"Carry, are you ok?" I had to ask that. It was the right thing to do, but it wasn't the right thing at the moment. Obviously she wasn't ok; if she was, she wouldn't be on the verge of tears.

"Look, let's just get you to the hospital."

Well, that wasn't quite the answer I was looking for, but I assume it was a simple no, plus to make things even more tense at the moment, she stayed quiet all the way to the hospital, which took at least about another five minutes to reach. I didn't really know what to expect, but I knew that the news I was about to receive wasn't going to be such a "jolly intervention", as my English teacher would have said.

Now when I come to think about it, he always says such a phrase when he meant it to be sarcastic in a tense situation. I remember being in the middle of an essay that I needed to write and Mr. Bark shouts out in a tone with so much sarcasm, "Oh what a jolly intervention this fine blasphemous day has brought us children," that even the 'slow' kids were out and about puzzling about why he used such sarcasm. No one really knew why he did that, but according to a childish superstition he was once a priest and that he would always do that after ever sacrament. Personally, as I've mentioned before, I never founded of such teachings because it became something of a brainwashed society, but I assume if it brings happiness and relaxation to some of the followers then I assumed it was alright, but enough of this.

Anyway, Carry and I arrived at the hospital to be greeted by late night volunteers and medical workers with open arms. It wasn't long until I was in the ward awaiting the response of the doctor after his tastings that he had given me. Dr. Osborne was his name, and I've visited him many times before this fine occasion, so he knew my file good enough, which was enough for me to trust him, and after some patching up from the kind (I'll admit, attractive) nurses, he came into the room with dark circles around his eyes, which I knew he had been working over time, many hours over at that.

Carry waited for me in the chair that was on the window side of the room, and watched as Dr. Osborne said through his bare rimmed glasses. "Well, I'm glad to report that you have no major injuries, Timothy," his voice was stern, yet soothing and relieving that I wasn't bleed internally or something of that matter. "Your ribs are bruised though, so we'll be giving you some pain medication to control the pain. Be glad, and grateful that they didn't do anymore damage to you; I'd consider myself lucky."

I stood up slightly, being assisted by Carry. "So have you called my mother?" I was more anxious to know that then how I was doing.

"Yes, and she said that she's glad you are alright, and thanks your friend as well, but I wouldn't say your off the hook just yet." Dr. Osborne replied this in a light chuckled towards the end.

I assumed I was in some trouble, but I didn't do anything, so my worries were to that high. I was more concerned about how Carry was feeling. She hadn't spoken ever since we've been assigned a room. I was beginning to wonder if she was upset at my actions or something. I mean, who wouldn't be upset if you had to pick up a friend who was just beaten down. Also, to top it off she didn't even get dressed. Carry was in shorts and an old shirt that I had given her when hers tore that one night at the camping trip with Ryan and some other people, who I don't associate with. Of course, her makeup was not done either, and her hair was a brief mess.

Carry and I walked down the hall ways of the hospital right as a voice suddenly interrupted us from the walk on home. "Timmy, is that you?"

I turned and saw that it was, to my surprise, Lisa. I haven't seen her for the last three days and it feels like a lifetime. I can't say that I missed her; but it seems as if that these entire recent events have been occurring so fast that I lost track of time. "Oh, hi there," I managed to reply.

"How are you?" Lisa said, adjusting her blonde hair. "I saw the records."

"I'm fine, thank you," I said. I felt Carry's hand apply pressure to my side. It was more of a stabbing sensation than an intended attention getter. I knew that she wanted me to leave already. I knew that Carry wanted me home. She wanted me safe, so I cut the conversation short with Lisa. "Look, I'm exhausted and want to get some rest. I'll see you in a few days or so."

"Ok," Lisa replied not shocked or anything. "I see your condition. I'll let you rest. Take care, and call me if you need anything." I wanted to question what she was doing in the hospital, but since she was dressed in scrubs I assumed that was self-explanatory.

We walked out of the hospital and drove home. I was dropped off after a brief explanation of Carry's silence. She said that she was quiet because she didn't want to mention anything that might offend me or affect our friendship in anyway. I attempted reassurance when she was almost to the point of tears, but it didn't work. I mean how can it help if all you say is "I'll be ok", but I assume I am really bad at this.

Now as I ignored my mother's requests more me to explain and just walked on upstairs to my room, I saw how she cared for me. I saw how she wanted to take care of me, but for now I can't let her intervene with my life, because of the complexity that it will unveil.





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