The Nevers

Chap. Seven - The Dream

Hi! Just a short Author's Note before this chapter starts.

  I just wanted to make it known that this chapter  is a past event in Jack & Alice's friendship, but from Jack's point of view. You'll be seeing more flashbacks and things like that as this book goes on.

Another thing is that this may contain some mentions and hint of some bullying that may be sensitive to some people. (They talk about it, but not in detail.) If you are not comfortable reading about some bullying scenarios (nothing crazy!), then it's fine to skip this chapter if you want. This is a big part of Jack and Alice's friendship, but again, it's just a flashback.

Anyway, enjoy the story!

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A Friday in August 7013

She didn't deserve this. I'll repeat that sentence over and over again until she finally wakes up. She didn't deserve this. It is true. 

  I sit outside in the waiting room of the hospital, in the exact same position I've been in the past eight to nine hours, staring at the spacey pale walls and breathing the cool air.  They say she's in a coma. But I still worry. The sweat on me feels like a pool and the sweatshirt doesn't help, considering the fact they keep it cold in hospitals.

   I keep waiting for them. I wait for the nurses to come back and tell me she's dead. Tell me that she died. "Why?" I'd ask. And they'd look at me like I am crazy. How in the hell would they know why? They only deal with how.

   My eyes well up with tears. Her. Her. Her. Her. Her. Her. She's killing me. My headache's now is the worst one I've ever gotten. Her. She was half dead on the floor. In her closet. I don't even know what made me go over to her house. I just did. Fear pricks at the back of my mind. What if I never went over? I shudder at the thought. She would have already been dead. And I would have just about died by then.

   

A light hand prods my shoulder. I jump and look over to see Annalise Winters in the waiting room next to me, looking gorgeous as hell. She wears a long skirt and a white sweater with her black hair pulled up in a ponytail. Her eyes are shadow less, unlike mine, and she seems almost as depressed as I am. "Hi," she says.

   I give her a slight nod before returning to my sulky state. "H-hi."

   She sits in the chair next to me, her long hair sliding over one shoulder. She is beautiful and I feel like punching myself in the face for thinking such a blasphemous thought. She's not the one in the hospital; she shouldn't be the first thing on my mind. I stare straight ahead, letting the curtain of silence fall between us.

   "Were you the one that found her?" she asks, breaking the silence.

     I nod. "Yeah," I whisper.

   She fidgets in her chair. "Oh." She says nothing for a few moments. "What happened?"

   I close my eyes and my shoulders sulk. I hate this conversation. I don't say so. "I think she overdosed on something," I say with wonder. "The painkillers." The memory of her nearly unconscious on the ground, the container next to her body is hot in my head. She was almost dead.

  There is pity in Annalise's eyes, which I also hate. "Do you think..." She licks her lips. I know where she was going with this, and she cuts around it because she doesn't want to say so. "Do you think she—she tried to off herself?"