Ron

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When the two, father and son, left the room, Robin sighed and leaned back in his bed. Then, as if he remembered that he had something to tell me, he opened his eyes again. "Ron, I need you to listen to what I say."

I nodded.

"You have to keep those two away from me." Robin said, sitting back and looking miserable.

"What?" I didn't see anything wrong with them. "Why?"

"Can't you see it?" Robin looked at me as if I was the dumbest thing on the planet.

"No?" I wasn't really sure what to say.

Robin sighed. "They treat me like a saint. You could see it in the father's eyes. He wants to apologize profusely(he's already done that). He's gonna invite me over for dinner, I swear."

"You can't get up. Inviting you over for dinner would be weird." I said, and Robin just shrugged. "Besides, what's wrong with that?" I would like to be treated like a saint.

"I just want to be a normal boy!" Robin whined. "Sure, I got hit by a truck. Sure, I'm bedridden. Sure, I'm going to die in a few days, but I don't want to be treated like a saint! Just act normal. It's annoying."

I looked down, not sure I could act perfectly normal. Looking away, I still answered. "Alright."

My head was still spinning, and sometimes, I thought I was still there, on the road, panicking, thinking he was dead. Everything was tuned out, except for myself, and my tears blurred my vision. How could this happen?

The policewoman had come up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder. "You have to let him go." She whispered. "If the ambulance doesn't take him, he'll die for sure."

That was when hope bloomed in me. 'He's still alive! He won't die, for sure.' All my hope flew away when my gaze landed on his still, body. 'Right?'

Then I'd wake up again, from the same dream, Robin still asleep in the bed in front of me, Mr. Williams in the chair behind me, and his son, half on his own chair, half on his father's lap. It's always the same, every single time.

Robin stirred, and then awoke. He looked up, and took in the sight, before putting his head back down, and grumbling. "Jeez, I'm so sore, I wish I could at least turn around without feeling pain. This is uncomfortable."

I sighed. Leave it to Robin to act this way right after being hit by a truck. He still wanted to be a normal boy. He'd said it himself.

That was when the boy woke up. Pierre, he said his name was, I think. He groaned, shifted, and then turned, facing his father's chest. After a few moments, he sat up, rubbing his eyes.

Then, he turned to me. I didn't notice until I felt his hand on my shoulder and turned around. "Ron, right?" He asked.

"What is it?"

The boy sighed. "Let's talk in the hallway, I don't want to get scolded if I disrupt anyone."

I smiled, playfully. Robin would be glad to hear that someone didn't seem to love him quite as much as his father did. "Alright, then. Let's go in the hallway."

"What did you want to tell me?" I asked Pierre once we were in the hallway.

"My therapist - Louisa - wants to see you. You don't have to - she just wants to see who you are, and I'm sure she'd ask Robin to come as well, if he wasn't injured." Pierre said.

"Thera-" No, I figured it was best not to ask, so I just said, "Sure, I guess. I don't really have anything to do here, except mope around, and it's making me really depressed. They let me out of school for a week, so I'm gonna get dumb. My mother and father appreciate it, but I want to go back, because staying here- Oh, sorry, I'm rambling..."

I looked up to see Pierre's amused face, and felt my own heating up. "A-anyways, I'll come along, alright?"

"Okay, then." Pierre said. "I'm sure my father would be-" there he rolled his eyes, "-thrilled to drive us both there."

I nodded. "Right. Then we meet up here?"

Pierre shrugged. "Fine with me.

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