Chapter 49.5

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A/N: NOT EDITED. If you don't like reading about Kieran just skip over him. Can't please everyone, not that I would even begin to try. I don't think I should need to remind anymore at this point that I write my stories my way.

Anyways, enjoy. Also I've started updating 'Scratch.'

Chapter 49.5 - Kieran POV [after speaking with Carla]

Pulling my hand away from Oakley's I stalked into the backyard leaving her and Nona there, entering the kitchen, I slipped up the stairs luckily avoiding everyone in the house, and when I finally make it to the room Chelsea gave me. My heart hammering, I panted as I slipped down against the wall.  

'Hands on the wall,' white coats voice husky in my ear, and my hands shake as I bring them up, my mind racing, wondering what I had done this time.

My cot was made.

I ate the food they gave me even though it made me sick I didn't vomit. The funny taste that was nothing like I had tasted before, I swallowed it down.

You're not there anymore, they aren't going to hurt, and they can never hurt you again.

I didn't make a sound when they poked me with the needle.

Kieran you need to relax, breath and just calm down.

I avoid eye contact with the white coats.

'You're making me do this, you couldn't even follow my simple instructions,' the same sneers, 'you think you're parents are going here for you? They aren't, they didn't want you Kieran, you didn't listen to them,' white coat said.

I was good. I was good. I tried to be good but nothing worked.

I didn't move an inch from the spot they put me in.

When the smoke from the ceiling came down I fought the voice and remained still.

'No good... bad... sorry...I'll be good,'

Rocking back and forth I tried to forget, gasping my chest felt tight, my vision was filled with black dots and I couldn't hear. I couldn't concentrate on anything, the colors of my room swirled and in the corner my cot appeared. Kieran you're on the island, you aren't back there, you - I welcomed the blackness.

Eyes fluttering, I snapped them shut.

My muscles felt worn, sore. My hands were clenched tightly, as I opened them, my bones popped and my skin prickled as blood flowed.

In my head Nyx whined, and I'm hit with memories of what happened, bolting to a sitting position my eyes darts around the room until I see Nona and Grant sitting on the sofa near the wall, the two of them neither smiling nor frowning in disappointment.

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