Whispers flood my ears and shake me awake. My head throbs but I manage to sit up, rubbing my temples and choosing to ignore the burning pairs of eyes focussed on my head. Sapnap runs to me, and pulls my smaller body close to him.
"George! You're awake, finally!" Sapnap screams a bit too loud. My head still throbs but I try to weasley out a response.
"You're being too loud" I mumble, but everyone hears it. That's when I take the time to observe my surroundings. The smell of antiseptic and mouthwash fills my nose, and blinding lights illuminate my the room and hallway. Small beeping noises erupt from a rather annoying machine, and it finally clicks in my brain. I'm in the hospital.
"W-why am I here?" I ask quietly. I stutter over the words slightly, but the other people in the room still respond. People I don't recognize and two that I do. Clay continues to stare at me with a worried look, and I finally get my answer.
"Mr. Davidson, you have been in a coma for the past 6 days. From your scans, we saw extreme head trauma, and possible precancerous cells. But not to worry, sir. Your operation went very well, and we should be able to discharge you in two to three days." The doctors explain my condition to me, but only half of it registers. All I understood was that I had a lot of explaining to do.
When I was seven, I was diagnosed with stage four metastatic melanoma, a type of cancer that full grown adults only had a 5% chance of surviving. I was the miracle case, and managed to be completely cancer free by my ninth birthday. I had hoped every day it never recurred.
I knew exactly what "head trauma" they were referring to. My dad blamed me for getting sick. Blamed me for the hospital bills and hassle he had to deal with to cure me. He would hit me, slam my head against walls until I bled, he was always drunk and any minor annoyance was taken out on me. And I knew he would never stop. Because his danger level was 1009. Higher than should be possible. I never understood why my mom, danger level 102 would stay with him.
I never wanted to see my father again, so on my 17th birthday, I ran away, and thought I was free. Little did I know then that five years later, be would find me in the aisles of a hardware store. I hoped beyond hope that the doctors hadn't called him and told him where I was.
--time skip to two days later--
I lean on Sapnap for balance as I place the crutches under my arms. Today I get to go home from the hospital. I slowly make my way out to the car, wobbling a little on my feet. As we drive home, Sapnap starts up a conversation.
"Never pull something like this again, got it?" He tried to sound serious, but his smile betrayed him.
"I don't plan to, don't worry" I responded, letting my British accent shine through my words. "So, what do you have planned for when we get home?"
"Well, I think you have some things to explain before we celebrate" My best friend sounds worried, and it hurts me to think what he was going through while I was unconscious.
"Okay." I mumbled as the car pulled into my driveway.
The second the door opens, everyone I know throws their gaze at me, and runs over. Sapnap grabs my crutches to keep me standing while all of my friends hold me in their worried and relieved arms. Tears stream down some of their faces as I sit down on my couch and begin to explain everything.
"Okay, so I guess this is the part where I explain everything?" I mumble to the crowded room.
"Yeah, that'd be great." Alex responds with sympathy in his tone. I can tell he's been crying.
"W-well, you see, when I was seven, I got really sick. Nobody could figure out what was wrong, so I ended up in the hospital. They ran a bunch of tests, and I was diagnosed with.." I have to stop explaining to will my eyes not to cry, and curse my vocal cords for breaking. "I was diagnosed with stage four metastatic melanoma. It's a type of cancer that even adults only have a 5% chance of surviving. I was a miracle case, I recovered and was cancer free by age nine" I continue to explain my childhood. I don't dare to look up at my friend's faces, but I can hear some of them sobbing quietly. "B-but my the time I was nine, cancer medical bills had piled up. My parents almost went bankrupt and my older sister had to move in with her friends. I was just the dorky cancer freak, so I didn't have anywhere but home to go. M-my dad always blamed me for getting sick, he would hit me, slam my head against the walls until it bled, break my fingers, anything he wanted. And because of his danger level, I knew he would never stop, so I ran away at seventeen. I never wanted to see him again, but I did. A week and a half ago, at that hardware store..." I couldn't stop crying at this point, but choose to ignore the salty regret trailing down my chin.
"So that's why you ran.." Clay connected the dots between my story and his memories. I cover my face for protection as a dozen crying faces throw their bodies at mine, enveloping me in warmth, and making me feel loved. But once everyone pulls away, Karl says something that freezes time.
"But, wait, I'm confused, you said he wouldn't stop because of his danger level? What do you mean by danger level?" Karl has a genuinely confused look on his face, and soon all in the room adopt the same look. My eyes go wide with fear and realisation. I was so busy ranting that I, I said something about the danger levels. They must think I'm crazy, they must think I'm out of my mind. I look around the room for anything to change the subject, anything to distract them long enough to forget. But I find nothing.
"W-well, that's not important, is it?-" I don't even have time to think before Sapnap interjects.
"No, no, I want to know." Confusion laced his tone and his arms cross against his ribs.
"Alright, but, you guys can't tell anyone, okay?" I get nods from the room and suck up a dry breath. "Well, ever since I was three, I've seen these.. numbers. Above everybody's heads. For years I didn't know what they meant, until my ninth birthday. That's when the label appeared. The number above every person in the world's head is their danger level, 100 is the lowest and 1000 is the highest. And I know how that sounds, but I swear it's true" I said quietly, hoping to whatever God there may be that they didn't send me back to the hospital. But, their reactions were very different than I could ever have anticipated.
"Wait, REALLY!" Tommy sounded a little too excited by this development. "THAT IS SO POG" I was shocked as everyone in the room began agreeing with Tommy, well, all except for one person. Clay walked up to me slowly, pulling me away from the excited room. He leaned down and whispered something in my ear that didn't register for many seconds.
"You're not the only one who sees things" Clay explained. "I see mood based off of changing eye color. Tell me, George, why can't I read you?"
I stand, shocked, before finally responding. "I-I don't know" then I run back into the room with the rest of my houseguests, leaving Clay behind. But, why does something in me not want to leave him, why does part of my mind scream at the rest for walking away?
Pog, I got another chapter out! Next chapter might be filler, but I'll try to get it out before Christmas. Have a wonderful day!
Word count: 1358
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Danger Level Unknown (dreamnotfound)
RomanceGeorge has always had a strange ability. Whenever he talks to someone, a number appears above their head, and that number is their danger level. 1000 is the highest, and 100 is the lowest. But what happens when he meets someone, and can't read their...
