Chapter 48.

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She gets up and walks out the door. "Beanca, wait!" I run out of my room only to stop in my tracks when I see what's in front of me.

Beanca and Koralee.

'Oh shit..' I think. That's not good. Beanca looks at Koralee up and down. Koralee does the same. "What the fuck are you looking at bitch?" Beanca walks up to her. "That's what the fuck I'm trying to figure out, bitch."

She notices Koralee's badge and her name. "Wow, you're the bitch that's been tormenting my friend?" I look at Beanca. 'Did she just call me her friend??'

As if she was reading my mind, she said, "Yes, I did just say my friend." As she says that she takes off her expensive shoes, take out her earring hoops and hands them to me. Then she gets in a fighting stance.

"Beanca, what are you doing?" I ask her with a very confused look on my face. She looks back at me. "Doing what friends do." She faces back at Koralee. "Bring it on you bitch. I know all about you. No one can treat Brielle like that."

Koralee cackles like the bitc— I mean witch she is. "Did you seriously snitch on me to your wannabe Barbie friend. And did you really think I'm scared of you? I'll kick your ass before you can even say sto—,"

Before Koralee can get her last word out, Beanca high kicks her in the nose and she falls down. Hard. "-Stop." She finishes for her.

I look around people were coming out of their rooms everyone just stands there. Even the other guards. Everyone knows how Koralee is so they feel that she deserved it.

The red haired girl, Anna Beth claps and everyone else does the same. "I can't believe you just did that Beanca." She tosses her long blond hair over her shoulder. "Of course. Now let's get you out of here." She walks over to the receptionist desk and I follow.

"Hi, I would like to get Brielle discharged." She says. "Wait, I can't leave. I still have more time to go." The nurse raises an eyebrow. "Your time was up a while ago sweetie." I blink. "I thought I had two weeks left?"

She looks at her chart. "Mm, no. It says here that you didn't feel safe enough to go home to you requested to stay longer." "I never said that. I never talked to anyone about that. I wanted to get out of her as soon as possible."

The nurse hands the clipboard to me. There it is. Except it wasn't. Apparently I had a psych evaluation when you get discharged and I told the psychiatrist that. "This wasn't me." I tell her and hand it back.

She types things on her computer. Her eyes widen for a second. "Ohhh, I see what happened. The person who arranged then eval was Koralee. She signed off on it." I feel my face get hot.

She forged a evaluation to make me stay her longer so she can torment me. I walk towards her as someone helps her up and puts gauze under her nose. I don't even care that she's already hurt, I keep going and punch her in the face.

"You made me stay here longer than I had to! Just so you can make me feel like shit while I'm here." She didn't say anything. She was just escorted out of the building.

I walk back to the desk and the nurse hands Beanca my papers. "I called your mom and told her to meet us. She'll be here shortly but I'm the meantime, let's get you out of those clothes and get some food in you." I nod. I can't believe it. I might be friends with Beanca Bradford.

I start to walk out of the mental ward when I realized something. I walk towards Anna Beth and give her a hug. "Thank you." I take a piece of paper and a pen from the front desk. "Here's my number and call me if you want. If you'd like, when you get out we can hang out sometime." She smiles at me. "I'd love to."

And I run to the lobby to meet Beanca.

As we're in the elevator to the cafe, I ask her a question, "Before you kicked Koralee, that was badass by the way, but did you mean what you said?" "About what?" "You know, about us being friends and not letting anyone torment me?" She touches my shoulder.

"Of course hon, no one should be tormenting you." The elevator doors open. "Except me," I stop and look at her. She just laughs. "Just kidding!" We laugh and walk into the cafeteria.

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