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v.
hurt
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Harley could feel himself slowly regaining consciousness, and he opened his eyes, only to find himself in an unfimiliar room. He stared at the ceiling above him for a while, before he noticed that there was a constant beeping sound coming next to him. Slowly, he turned his head to the side, and he spotted a monitor that seemed to display his heartbeat.
He lowered his gaze, and he was slightly surprised to find his hand being attached to a drip. Was he at a hospital? He moved himself into a sitting position, and he let out a soft groan when his head hurt. Gently, he rubbed his temple, and he finally took in his surroundings. His clothes were changed, and he was now sitting on top of a hospital bed. His body ached, and only now he remembered that his mother was beating him before he passed out.
Or was he knocked out?
A nurse came into the room, and she smiled genuinely at him as she entered. Though, her smile was only faint. She pulled a chair closer towards his bed and sat on it. Her voice was soft when she spoke, "Hey, how are you feeling?"
He didn't answer. Whether it was due to fatigue or because he just refused to, he wasn't sure.
"Anyway, while you were sleeping, we did a little check up on you," she continued, despite his silence. "We can't help but notice that there are bruises all over you. Can you tell us who had been hurting you?"
He looked away.
If he answered, his mother would surely punish him.
"Your mother is currently being questioned by the police," the nurse said, her face growing solemn. "She is currently a suspect for child abuse. We noticed that you've suffered from physical violence, and you barely had any sleep. Was she responsible for all of this?"
What was the point?
If he answered, would it really change anything?
"Harley," she said, placing a hand over his shoulder. She was looking at him, but he refused to meet her in the eyes. "We cannot help you if you don't answer. If you help us, we can arrest her—if she's really the one who had been hurting you all this time."
It sounded like a dream, but how long could they hold her? What if she came back?
"All right, you don't have to answer," she said, letting out a defeated sigh. "But please nod your head if what I said is true."
Well, it doesn't matter anyway.
He had made up his mind, and, even if his mother wanted to hurt him after this for telling, he won't be in her reach anymore.
So, he nodded his head.
"I see." The nurse stood up and patted his shoulder. "Please rest as much as you need. You don't have to worry about her anymore. We'll send you some food in about half an hour."
He watched as she left the room, the sound of her footsteps becoming distant. He waited until she was gone, before he moved to the edge of the bed. He groaned when he landed on his feet, and he yanked the drip away from his hand. His body started to sting, but he simply ignored it. This wasn't the first time he had to bear the pain coming from his body. He had endured it many times, so he should be fine until he finishes what he intends to do.
