The girl from the trailer

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
Carly obediently took the pills, drank the medicine and tolerated infusions, but the belief that in spite of all she'll pull through and become a love - died.

Submitted: August 27, 2019

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Submitted: August 27, 2019

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Life can change suddenly.
 
Two and a quarter years ago, Carly Ruth Holt had drawn a lucky ticket because she had been noticed, and she was preparing for a different life. The girl had financial support, from her life gone constant hunger. Money, as it turned out, became the main motivation in the life of a teenager.
 
For the first three months, Carly spent her money on small things that were forgotten in a few days, and by the end of the last week, Holt had not a cent left. Then, when greed was suppressed, the girl became more sensible to the available means.
 
Carly didn't think much about the future. She tightened her studies, because she had to answer to Victor: in the past two years since meeting the vampire, the girl was used to his control and even tried to justify the trust shown and all the forces that were invested in her.
 
Only three months ago it was over.
 
Carly remembered that day clearly: a routine medical examination. Then one examination, the second, the third. Disappointing diagnosis. And, as luck would have it, Victor wasn't around to complain. Tom was given an urgent task-a personal request — and for four months the man went on other business. Holt, despite her affection for her mentor, had not written to him. This decision was difficult for her. She wanted desperately to share her misfortune with someone.
 
In the absence of Viktor on a girl set used. Carly remembered the last envelope and the words that she didn't fit.
 
That's what broke the girl.

Holt hadn't expected to become so attached to a vampire, or maybe the attachment wasn't to a mentor, but to money? Carly was used to receiving an envelope, and she knew it wouldn't happen again. Because it doesn't fit. Because it lacks something important. Then came other thoughts, and the teenager is easy to convince yourself that superfluous and unnecessary.
 
A month after the refusal, when there was no longer an envelope with treasured bills, the girl risked health and try to survive.
 
Father once said that money will not give. Mother refused to walk with her to the hospital, as cool wall cumbersome enterprises it oppressed. Carly had to do everything from going to the doctors to buying medicine. She took a responsible approach to this issue — took everything on schedule.
 
But luck was no longer on Holt's side.
 
Carly was losing faith in herself.
 
She needed support and was looking for something bright in her life, but did not find it. The girl even thought of writing to Victor — she even wrote forty-seven letters and never sent one. Can be mentor and wrote it himself, but-former ward not tested and folder "Inbox" not opened even on mobile phone.
 
Holt's health insurance didn't cover her medical expenses. As a teenager — a child, in fact-she couldn't get another insurance policy without her parents ' permission. They'd be interested in the money and take it, and then Carly wouldn't have a cent. The girl had no doubt that she would not have been questioned.
 
Two and a half months ago, the vampire's former ward dropped out of school. She was exhausted. Education once again became still, and in the hospital were not asked for lessons.
 
Procedure after procedure. A desperate envy to all who came parents. Envy to angry tears, to teeth biting into the fabric of the pillow, to a silent howl.
 
Carly desperately needed support, because whatever it was, Holt was a child.
 
Several times the girl called home, listened to another promise to come to her and lived waiting.
 
She sat on the bed for hours, watching the hands on the dial, and only put the clock aside when visiting hours were over.
 
Day after day, she hoped that at least her mother would come to her, that Carly would be able to hug her, bury her face in her exposed shoulder, and cry. Maybe then it will be easier and not so scary. Maybe then mom will tell her what will be with her and will come every day.
 
But mom didn't come, and Carly was getting weaker. There was no strength even to envy. Two and a half years ago, Holt would have been happy to get sick. Not now. She desperately wants to live, but she won't have that. She missed her chance.
 
Carly glanced at her watch. A normal wrist watch, mechanical, purchased
first money, then glanced at the nurse that brought another useless drug.

"What happens to the things of those who died but weren't taken," Carly pursed her lips.
 
She knew the answer. But she desperately wanted to hear that whatever the outcome will give a watch that is not thrown, the only expensive thing for Holt, will become someone's memory about a lonely wolf.
 
The nurse smiled. She knows that Holt is only pretending that she doesn't care that people don't come to see her. But it can't be comforting.
 
"They'll be handed over to your parents anyway," the nurse said softly. "I promise. Here no one throws things", although the woman knew that unclaimed throw a month.
 
She did not tell Carly that she had already written out the address of the girl's house and was going to her parents, who might not come anyway, no matter how much the condemned woman tried to persuade them. The nurse didn't want to give Holt false hope.
 
"Not them... I ... will Write the e-mail address ... Suddenly…"
 
Carly stopped short. Her voice trailed off, and she turned away to hide her tears. She reminded herself again that she wasn't needed, that even her mother and father didn't come. It was easier to convince herself that it was all her fault than that she had been so unlucky with her parents.
 
With each passing day, Carly's strength grew less and less. The girl desperately fought for her life, but the fight was losing.
 
There was only a shadow of the brisk teenager: the disease was slowly eating away at Holt. The treatment was extended to the rest of his life girls, but doctors understand that the body is unable to cope Carly. There was no improvement, but, fortunately for the patient, there was no deterioration. She was back at a time when she hadn't eaten much. Only now it was because of illness.
 
Holt reached the nurses ' station again. Once again asked to make a call. She dialed her home number again and listened to the beep after beep. On the twelfth up lifted.
 
"Carly?"the mother was annoyed, the girl heard it in a sharp tone.
 
The teenager swallowed, lowered her head, feeling guilty.
 
"Mom, it's me..." the voice sounded too pathetic, but the girl wasn't paying attention. "Mommy ... Please…"
 
But the woman just hung up. Carly swallowed hard, clenched and unclenched her fists, and hung up.

"She will come. She promised..." that's what Holt held on to, that desperate faith that helped her cling to life, go through the procedures.
 
Carly went into the room. The girl lived with expectation and tried to cope with what she could not cope with herself. She kept watching the clock, started praying for mom to come.
 
But after a few days there was no hope for Holt. She was lying in bed, looking out the window. Visiting hours ended seventeen minutes ago.
 
"Mom?"the girl raised herself on her elbows, but it was just a nurse who always treated her with warmth.
 
"Rest, baby, I just brought the medicine."
 
Always has been. Carly obediently took the pills, drank the medicine and tolerated infusions, but the belief that in spite of all she'll pull through and become a love — died.
 
That's what prompted Carly Ruth Holt to ask the nurse for the opportunity to write an email. Two days later, when the employee remained in the night shift, she brought the girl a tablet.
 
The patient did not return it until two hours later. During this time, she managed to register a new mailbox, write a letter and send it to Victor's email address.

"From: trailer Girl
Subject: what to write here?
 
Victor, greetings. It's Carly. If you've forgotten, then... well, you've thrown me to the ground a lot, and you've taught me how to fight, prepared me for something, given me money, and... I'm Sure you've forgotten me. If not, Hello. I ... Know I didn't come. I'm not asking for a chance. I don't need this... Victor... Remember when you told me everything was gonna be okay? Say it again. Or write. Yes. Exactly. Write. At this address. Just a few words. You're welcome. It's not that hard, is it? I'm not asking too much, am I? Just a few words. You're welcome. You're welcome. You're welcome.
 
K."


© Copyright 2020 Grace Riley. All rights reserved.

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