Sleeves

Chapter 12

When I open my eyes again, it’s nighttime. The room is bathed in moonlight and as I glance around, I can’t find Xander anywhere. I try not to feel disappointed, I shouldn’t expect him to sleep here, me not being much company. I sigh and contemplate hitting the nurse button, just so that I can fall back asleep, when the soft sound of a door opening distracts me.

                “Xander?” I whisper, hope swelling in my chest. He did stay.

                But the shape now approaching my bed is not Xander. The hulking body and outstretched hands could not belong to him. I breathe in deeply and prepare to let out a scream, but a large hand clamps over my mouth. I twist and turn and scratch at the hand, but it is no use. The room spins as my head reacts to the sudden movements.

                “Listen to me, Gracee,” my father whispers, “you’ve caused a big mess for the both of us. Now you’re gonna come with me, and nobody’s gonna get hurt. But if you don’t,” I now see the threatening object in his hand, the moonlight glinting off the barrel, “well, let’s hope your little boyfriend is bulletproof.” He chuckles darkly and I shiver under the thin blankets.

                “Now unplug yourself from this piece of junk and let’s get out of here.” I tremble in fear and obediently begin to unhook the chords from my body, trying to steady myself as I scoot off the edge of the bed. I have to go with him, this man who will surely kill me, unless I want countless innocents to be wounded in my place. There’s really no choice. I begin to weep silently, and beg to whoever it is that’s up there to please make it quick.

                As I pass through the door, a figure appears from the hallway, so beautiful I am almost certain that it is a vision. Xander, flying down the pathway, running straight past me and ramming his fist into my father’s nose.

                “Arghhhhh!” my father bellows in outrage. He lifts his gun, pointed straight for Xander’s head.

                “No!” I hear myself shout, wrapping my arms around his hand and jerking the gun towards me instead.

                I hear a scream, then vaguely realize that it’s mine. I feel nothing. I sink to the ground, watching as Xander plows into my father, beating his fists against my father’s face over and over. I mildly wonder why he would do such a thing, it looks to be quite painful on both ends. Suddenly, I am tired. I lay my head to rest against the hospital floor. My eyes stare blankly, unseeing at the tiles, now covered in my blood.