43: I'LL KILL HIM MYSELF

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A/n: So I'm back from my writer's block/mental breakdown induced hiatus. I'm really sorry guys, I know I do this way too often but this time I was really close to deleting all my stories and swearing off wattpad. It felt like the writer in me had died and she was never coming back and that in itself almost killed me but I decided to give myself some time off to focus on some other things (school has been a bitch like you wouldn't believe) Anyways, I'm back now and if you're still reading this story, know that I am eternally grateful. Hopefully, I'll stay consistent till the end of this book (which is real soon BTW) I love you guys like you wouldn't believe 💕

***
By the time I reach the hospital, panic has made itself comfortable in the pit of my stomach. She has roommates too, fear and anxiety.

I must look a sight, wandering round the halls of the hospital in oversized sweatpants and food stained T-shirt looking for Ethan. I don’t know why I’m expecting someone who’s just been in an accident to be sitting in the waiting room but panic kicked out rationality when she moved in.

I don’t spot Ethan, but I see a blonde head, bent over and shaking uncontrollably in front of what must be the OR.

“Kathy” I exhale in relief and her head snaps up.

“Dylan!” she sobs as she catapults herself into my arms and I stumble back as I hold her small shaking body, tears of my own rolling down my cheeks.

“I’m so glad you’re here” she sobs into my T-shirt, grabbing fistfuls and squeezing me tightly.

“What happened?” I ask shakily.
She sobs harder, unable to get the words out
.
I lead her in an awkward wobble to the seats and settle her down in my lap. I rock her back and forth, soothingly, briefly registering the man in a suit standing close by. He must have brought her.

“Th-they found his car” she sniffs, “upside down, th-that’s all they would s-say”

She buries her head in my neck, sobbing afresh and I hold her to me, sobbing quietly along with her, “how long has he been in surgery?” I direct my question to the man hovering nearby and he answers stiffly, “two hours”

“How much longer?” my voice is thick with trepidation. He shakes his head and bows it in shame like his lack of knowledge is somehow his fault.

“Her parents?” I ask him again and he glances down at her, a look I can only describe as fond pity crossing over his face.

“They won’t be able to make it in today, they have affairs to handle”

I hold in my scoff for Kathy’s sake but the man clearly sees my disgust. What kind of parents don’t drop everything and come running the second their child is in danger?

The three of us stay like that for what feels like forever and as the seconds roll into minutes and minutes into hours, the anxiety and fear grow till it feels like I’m going to suffocate under their weight.

The three of us snap out of our semi-lethargic state when the doors slam open and a doctor strolls out, looking worse for wear after like five hours of surgery.

Kathy flies off my lap and plants herself in front of the weary man, not letting him take another step forward or around her.

“How’s my brother? Is he okay? Will he be okay? Where is he? I want to see him.”

He looks down at her, irritation briefly crossing his features before sighing and looking up at me and then the man, “are you family?”

“I’m their guardian when their parents are away” the man answers.

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