Seventeen-year-old Rachel Adams had it all. Wealth, popularity, brains, beauty, the school's hottest boyfriend, everlasting friends and loving parents. Sadly, one tragic incident on the 1st September of 2017 turned her whole world upside down. The s...
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ELLIOT
I woke up by sudden pain aching the lower right side of my stomach. My eyes fluttered opened, but I squinted when they met the bright light. Blinking several times, I tried look around, exhaustingly.
When my gaze stopped on mom, a hint of relief formed within me. She was dressed in jeans, a white blouse and a grey cardigan hanging loosely on her body. A frown was stitched on her face and her eyes were red as if she had been crying. A lot.
I tried to reach for her hand, but my strength failed me. Weakness was dominating over my bones.
"Mom...what happened?" My voice was husky and dry as if I hadn't spoken in several hours.
"Elliot!" Mom jumped from her chair and onto the edge of the bed, carefully taking my hand in hers.
"Are you okay? How are you feeling?" She asked, stroking my forehead while immense relief passed her face.
"I'm okay, but what happened?" I asked, looking around the room we were in. The walls where painted white and the beams of sunlight was streaming in from the windows on the right side of the room. On the left side of the room was a grey couch placed on the upper corner while the door was slightly open. This room had an oddly. familiar scent. The same scent I inhaled the day mom cut her wrist. When I noticed I was lying in a bed, dressed in patient clothes and felt a bandage around my stomach, I realized this must've been a...hospital.
"After you reached our new house, the driver was helping you take out your luggage when you fainted and your wound started bleeding," mom replied, sudden anger echoing in her tone.
My wound. By the look on her face, I was pretty sure she knew.
"Mom-,"
"-Please, don't," she cut me off, angrily. "Why, dear? Why did you lie? Why did you hide something so important that was related to your health for so long? Why didn't you tell me that the other kids didn't only bully you because we were poor, but also because they all knew? Why?" She asked, tears brimming in her eyes.
I squeezed her hand in mine. "I'm so sorry, mom. I didn't want you to waste your money on my carelessness. I was stupid to fight with those guys."
"They were hurting you and you never said anything! If you told me, I could've talked to the school or you could've change schools. I could've done something. Anything. But no. You had to lie to me," she said, still furious.
"Mom, I'm sorry," I whispered, apologetic.
"Your wound was infected. Pieces of that vodka bottle you fell on yesterday, got into your skin and spread out in your body. They had to perform a surgery that lasted for several hours. Do you have any idea how scared I was?" She sobbed.
