Delicate ✔

Chapter Twenty-Four

   I feel someone plant a kiss on my forehead. I open my eyes slightly. A blur of lights make me shut them again. I feel so tired. The smell of hospital makes me wrinkle my nose. I had been in the emergency room for what seemed like hours. I fell asleep fairly quickly.

"Sweetie," my mother's voice croaks. "Wake up."

I look up to see my parents peering down at me. I push myself into the bed, preparing myself for their yelling. I expect them to scream at me and tell me how angry they are, but they don't. The hospital must have requested that I stay here for the night.

"Your wound is infected. They cleaned it up.," my dad says. "You'll have to take an antibiotic to fight the infection. We don't want it getting worse."

"The doctor cleaned it up pretty good though," my mother adds.

I sit up, now at eye-level with them. They're sitting in chairs at my bedside. I look around the room. Sunlight spills through the window. The light fades away slowly when the clouds cover it. It's day time. Thank heavens that awful night is over. But Where is Justin?

"Where is Justin?"

Mom purses her lips, adverting her eyes over to my eyes. "We'll talk about it when we get home."

I shake my head defiantly. "I want to talk about it now."

"Aubrey," my dad scolds. "We'll talk about it later," he reiterates.

I sigh, dropping the subject. "When can I leave?"

"That's why we came to wake you up," my dad explains. "The doctor says you can leave today if you want."

I nod my head quickly. "Can we leave now?," I beg, looking around the small, gloomy room. "I don't like being here."

"Of course," Mom says. "I brought you some clothes," she motions to a bag at the end of the bed.

I slip out from under the covers, finally noticing my white hospital gown. My stabbed area is bandaged properly. I smile dryly at the thought of Justin wearing  hospital gown. He would look so ridiculous. More ridiculous than me in this thing.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," I giggle. "Thanks for the clothes."

I travel over to the private bathroom to change. They brought me a shirt, a jacket, and some jeans. I hope Justin is okay. Did they keep him over night? What are my parents keeping from me? Why can't they tell me where he is now? Maybe something bad happened to him. I pause with my hand on the door handle. The realization dawns on me. Knowing them, they probably blamed this whole mess on Justin. He was Justin trying to help out his friend. he didn't know all of this would happen. They probably blamed him and told him to leave. My heart feels weak. They told him to leave. He's gone.

.....

When we're home, I bolt upstairs to Justin's room. I force the door open. The bed is made and everything is nice and tidy. Justin's room hadn't been this clean. Ella must have cleaned it up. I rush over to the closet. His clothes are gone. Everything of Justin's is gone.

He's gone...

I exit the room, my heart heavy with foreign feelings. Lily notices me and smiles slightly. "You're home," he greets me.

She surprises me by giving me a tight hug. Her voice cracks. "Mom and dad thought you were dead. There was this suicide letter left in the mailbox. It said Justin killed himself. We just assumed the worst about you."

We pull away from each other and I frown. "Justin didn't kill himself."

"I know," Lily responds. "Someone must have made him write it, because it was his hand-writing."