M E S S Y
cHaPtEr 3
To my horror, I woke late the next morning.
My alarm hadn't gone off, and I knew exactly who to blame for that. I'd let him off the hook for now, but Charlie was going to hear it later.
I jumped up and ran for the shower, cranking it to full blast and getting in when the water was still cold. I washed my hair quickly before I got out the loofah. I was liberally applying body wash—like the bottle says too—when the heat started to kick in, and within moments was unbearable.
But by then I was finished.
I got out, dried off wrapped the towel around my hair and sprinted back to my room. My clothes had been laid out across my computer chair—my favorite dark blue blouse and tan slacks—but had somehow mysteriously disappeared. My brow furrowed as I thought of Charlie again, adding another item to my list of Reasons to Yell at Charlie. I grabbed my black slacks and a deep red top instead, tossing them on the bed while I pulled on my undergarments and used deodorant. I yanked the towel from my head and started the blow-drying process while brushing my teeth. Then I threw on my clothes, grabbed my wristwatch, and headed to the kitchen.
It was too late for breakfast, so I shoved a granola bar in my back pocket for later, grabbed my shoes, and headed out to my truck. It roared to life after a few turned of the key, and I was off.
By the time I got to the community service center, the demonstration was over, and I'd arrived literally just in time to receive the information of the person I'd be helping.
The rest of the class was there as I ran in, and Mr. Banner was about to start explaining. Breathless, I sprinted to the back of the group and tried to be quiet enough to hear what he was saying.
"In the folders I have here are the records—or what you're allowed to know about them—of the people that, for the rest of the summer, you will be spending time with." He read off our names, and we came to the front to collect our folders.
"Now, we'll be driving to the hospital, since most of the people in these folders are still there. If yours has an address in it, that's where you need to go instead. Everyone else, hop in your cars and follow me. If you need a ride, I've got my van."
I decided to get in my truck before opening the folder. I already knew where the hospital was, so I didn't need anyone to lead me there, and if I was going to someone's home, I didn't need to follow them to the hospital. I climbed in behind the wheel and buckled up before I looked at the papers.
His name was Edward Cullen. He was my age. He was still at the hospital, though his discharge had to be soon, since he'd been admitted almost a week ago. If they were planning on putting him in the psyche ward, they would have already done it. He had a family, though it didn't state if they lived nearby or not.
The last thing the file said was how he'd tried to kill himself.
He used a razor, and he slit his wrists.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
His method had almost sealed the deal—I'd almost gone back up to Mr. Banner and handed the folder back, saying this was all a little too sudden for me. But I reminded myself that the reason I'd joined this was to prevent this from happening. So I took a deep breath, closed the folder, and started off to the hospital.
When I got there, Mr. Banner had the class there in a group, waiting for everyone before we departed. I only counted six people, including me, and then one more person showed up and we were ready to go. Everyone else, it seemed, had an address to go to.
"Alright, gang," Mr. Banner said, as if this was his last bit of advice. "Remember your training, and take it slow; this is the first meeting, and it's not uncommon for things to go poorly. More often than not, the person you're trying to help doesn't want your help, but don't get discouraged. And remember! Be careful about your wording." He turned, then, and led us inside.
The group walked up to the front desk, and while Mr. Banner spoke to someone there, I was looking around, taking in my surroundings.
It had been a long while since I'd last been here, surprisingly enough. I was a very clumsy person, and used to fall down stairs a lot, or trip over flat, smooth surfaces and fall on my face. I'd broken my arm once, and cracked a rib, but that was years ago, and the place had changed a bit.
The shiny white floor tiles were new, the halls had been repainted. The furniture looked more modern, newer, cleaner. There were pictures of classic paintings lining the walls, and, from what I saw, in every room as well. It was a more visitor friendly place, but the sterile stench of hospital was the same as ever. I wrinkled my nose.
The woman at the front desk directed us down a hallway that led to a little nurse's station in a small hallway that she said was 'the home to all of those poor people.' Conveniently enough, they were in the same hallway. We headed down, and I tried not to look into the rooms with open doors.
Once we were at the nurse's station, we once again explained who we were, and who we were there to see. One of the nurses checked the charts to all of the patients, and Took us one by one to the room that corresponded to us. I was, of course, last.
The nurse was tall and pretty, even with her hair pulled into a simple ponytail and little to no makeup on her face. Under her scrubs I could make out her shape and I could see that it was much more appealing than mine.
So I couldn't understand why—when we walked into the room with "EDWARD CULLEN" on the sign by the door, and the nurse introduced me—his eyes never looked away from me.
"Edward," the woman said, gesturing to me. "This is Isabella. She's here to talk to you."
I gave him a shy little wave and a smile, still hooked on the fact that he was staring at me and not the beautiful nurse when he himself was gorgeous—godlike even—with thick, bronze hair, striking green eyes, and fair skin, paler than any I'd ever seen before, but that could possibly be from blood loss. His eyes never left mine and I was starting to feel self conscious, and then he opened his mouth to speak.
A/N: Thanks once again for all your continued support for this story. I love hearing reviews. Good ones are my favorite, but it's also great to hear from people with suggestions of offers of help. It really does make a difference. I love that you're so interested in this story. I'm sorry this chapter is so short, but I felt it ended at a good place. I might be able to get out another chapter tonight, but if not, rest assured it will come tomorrow. I'd like to wish everyone Happy Holidays in advance, and thank you all once again for reading, reviewing, and being there to help me. :) It really means a lot.
P.S. Edward came in this chapter! Too bad he hasn't spoken yet XD