Chapter 3 - Coming Back

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I sat on the edge of the bed and fixed my gaze on the wall

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I sat on the edge of the bed and fixed my gaze on the wall. All I could hear as night fell was crickets chirping outside the windows. I reached my breaking point after spending yet another day in this hospital. The accident had left me with no family, no money, and no hope.

I had overheard the nurses talking about sending me to another foster home after I got out of the hospital. I've heard stories about foster care homes. The trauma from the eighteen-year-olds who've finally escaped. I couldn't go through that again. I needed to escape. I needed to find a way out of this never-ending cycle of abandonment and loneliness.

I looked around the room, searching for any way out. It was the dead of night... so maybe I could escape.

My arm had an IV drip in it. I could leave if I could just get rid of it. It was risky, but I had nothing to lose. I carefully pulled out the needle, wincing at the pain. I quickly dressed in my clothes and made my way to the door.

As I opened the door, my heart sank. There was a nurse standing right outside, making her rounds. I quickly ducked back into the room and closed the door, trying to catch my breath. I couldn't let anyone see me. I needed to find another way out.

I waited for what felt like an eternity until the nurse finally moved on. As soon as she was out of sight, I tiptoed down the stairs, a wave of dizziness passing through me. My fingers clenched tightly onto the railing, knuckles turning white as I let it pass. I had to be careful not to make a sound, as I didn't want to draw any attention to myself.

I was almost at the bottom of the stairs when I heard a voice behind me. "What are you doing here so late?"

I turned around to see a man in scrubs, a doctor on the night shift. He looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place him.

I tried to play it cool, a sharp pain starting again in the back of my head. My mouth felt dry; maybe I should have drunk water before attempting to leave. "Just going for a walk," I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

But he wasn't buying it. "You're the girl from the car crash. Concussion, yeah? You're not supposed to be out of your room," he said firmly.

"No, wait." Suddenly I felt like throwing up. I think he saw me stumble slightly. His face turned from stern to worried as he led me to the nearest chair. "Did you take the IV out?"

I nodded slowly and he sighed, shaking his head. "God, you remind me of my brother," he muttered. "You're going to pass out from dehydration and exhaustion. Come on. Let's go back upstairs."

Seeing how I felt like passing out, I shook my head. "I need to leave—"

"No, you don't," he said sternly. "Don't strain yourself like this. Can you walk?"

I attempted to stand up, only to fall back into the chair. I gave him a sheepish grin as he sighed once more. "Put your arm over my shoulder," he said. "I'll help you up."

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