I am so happy! Twenty three reviews is the mostest I've ever had for a story. Summer break is going pretty good. About to start Driver's Ed and volunteer at the hospital, so updates are going to slow down again ;( sorry! I really wish it weren't the case. Thanks for reading. As always, it is most appreciated.

Laurie sat there somberly, looking at me with his fiery red eyes. "Are you sure this boy hates you that much?"

"Laurie, the ire in his eyes rocked every fiber of my being. No one has ever looked at me like that."

Laurie pondered it for a moment before saying, "I'll make an anonymous call just to have the counselors watch the boy. Maybe they can check and see if he has a history of violence. If need be, your mom can, and will, certainly pull you out of school."

I shook my head vigorously, "Last resort. Do not tell Mom. She will pull me out of school, with or without my consent. Homeschool is not something I want to consider, especially with prom and stuff coming up."

Laurie nodded before patting my back. "Remember, nobody is going to hurt you. Neither of us will ever allow that ever happen. You are far too special."

"Thanks Laurie."

Yeah, I know. I lied when I said I told him everything. You have got to understand, I couldn't tell him about my visions. He'd think I'd lost my marbles. In fact, I'd never told anyone about them. Most of the time I tried to convince myself that they were just acts of my vividly beautiful imagination. It hadn't worked this time.

"Now, go out and do something, ma fifille. No use being cooped up in here the rest of the day."

"Yes, sir," I saluted him before scampering out the front door... and running straight into an older guy by the namesake Henry.

He steadied me slightly, muscles contracting quite visibly. If he was a bit younger (and not Charity's older brother) I would've considered him dateable. He was extremely hot with tussled blonde hair and sparkling green eyes; not that I'd been able to pay attention that fateful night. Wow. That felt like years ago. Was that actually, what, three days ago?

"What are you doing here, Henry?" I asked.

The look in his eyes told me much more than I wanted to know. My heart began to sink as he said two words, "Its Charity."

Without further questioning, I hopped into his vehicle, Old Red. I didn't want Laurie stopping me from going. He and Mom were weird about certain things, especially when those 'things' involved me visiting the hospital or being taken there by an older guy. I'd never forgive them if something happened to Charity and they hadn't let me go see her.

Thankfully, Henry followed quickly, giving Laurie less of a chance to dash outside and stop me. Henry seemed puzzled; he soon revealed that he hadn't thought I'd be home so early. He was just going to ask my parents to tell me that Charity was in the hospital.

"Wait! She's in the hospital? What's wrong with her?" I inquired as we started down the road.

His voice was gruff and terse as he replied, "Her lungs failed on her. She's on a breathing machine right now. Only two words she's said are my name and yours. I had to go get you. She's in and out of consciousness; the Doctor says there are underlying problems and complications. She might not make it through the night."

"But," I couldn't finish the sentence. It was Charity for Pete's sake. She had to live. She couldn't die, not now, not after everything that had happened.

We rode in silence the rest of the way. Arriving at the hospital was the hardest part. Not a day ago I'd been checked out of the same place, no worse for the wear. Now, Charity was in there, possibly dying. It threw things into perspective.

I got out of the car just as it started to rain. It was a cold rain, chilling me to the bone. It didn't seem that the rains were that chilly in Maine. That could've just been me, though, considering the circumstances.

Henry led me into the building briskly, going straight for the elevators. The call button was already alight thanks to an elderly woman who was tapping her shoe impatiently. We got in and the elevator soared up to level two, three, four, and, finally, five.

We went to the visitor's desk and I received a special badge so I could go into the critical ward. Henry already had one because he was there earlier. There was an extra somber air about this part of the hospital. It was almost like death was trying to creep up on me, stealing the breath from my lungs and the blood from my heart.

I shivered as I blinked and saw a little boy walking towards me. I instinctively knew that he had leukemia. His blue, blue eyes twinkled like two brilliant skies on a hot summer day. Four months ago he'd been told he had two weeks to live; low and behold he was still alive. A bright smile painted his face as he raced past a nurse, tugging a towel from the top of her stack. She laughed at the boy and lightly swatted him with the tips of her manicured hand.

Henry strolled right through the nurse, dispersing her image from my mind. I shivered lightly, "You coming?" he asked morosely.

I nodded and followed him to room 141, Charity's room. There were two people (assumedly her mom and dad) already in there, sitting stiffly on a couch that was patterned an attractive, if a little depressing, grey. The woman looked somber, but not overly upset. Personally, if it were my child I'd be bawling my eyes out, mascara running down my powdered face. But, everyone handled grief differently, and I respected that.

It was her father I couldn't respect. He had originally looked like he was crying, or, at the very least, deeply thinking. He was, on further inspection, rapidly typing at his Blackberry, oblivious to the fact that his child lay at her deathbed.

"Mom, Dad," Henry coughed to let them know we were there. The mother looked up at us, and I finally pinpointed what her glazed expression was. It was disbelief, shock, whatever you'd like to call it. Though she looked at us, she couldn't actually see us. We were just wraiths, whispers in the wind.

Her father didn't even spare us a glance. He simply grunted and turned further away. Hello to you too, sir. I thought quite sarcastically.

Unwillingly, my gaze finally settled upon the bed. Somehow I ended up at the side of it, staring down at a tiny body. It couldn't possibly be Charity. Her skin was a sallow, yellow color that would've horrified her at any other time. There were so many wires and needles shoved up her arms; I could barely make sense of their purposes. If I didn't know better, I'd have thought she was dead.

The steady beep of the heart monitor was the only thing that assured me she was alive, if only barely. The mask was the worst part of the whole set up. It covered her nose and mouth quite securely and made a rasping sound as it forced her to breathe.

I found myself grasping her frail hand gently, rubbing circles with my thumb. Mom always did that when I was sick. Even if she was asleep, she'd be aware that someone was there for her.

"Hey, Charity," I murmured lowly. No one was really paying attention to me, mainly because they'd all been called to the consultation room to speak with a doctor.

I paused for a moment, perhaps hoping that she would wake up and scream, "Gotcha!" A minute passed before I realized that was a false hope, improbable as snow in July.

"Your chauffer brought me here. You've got him trained well," I croaked out a laugh that may have been a sob. "You can't just give up you know," I told her. "You've been in remission before. The cancer, it ain't got you yet, right? C'mon, girly girl. Wake up, for me, for yourself. We can go out and thrash a million zillion laptops. Wouldn't that be fun? I guess not. That's expensive hardware, but… still! Chair, you can't give up. I won't let you. I'll go into the afterlife after you and drag your scrawny soul back into that darned body of yours. So, so wake up!"

A weak smile was the only response I could obtain. Still, it was a smile. Some part of her had heard me. I watched Charity carefully, but she made no other movements. After a few moments that encouraging smile disappeared, wiped away forever.

A scream pierced the air. I continued to rub Charity's hand, soothing myself as much as her. The second scream was what really rattled me, "NO! YOU CAN'T DO THAT!" Was that, was that Henry? I heard a few cuss words being flung at the doctor and his parents before feet thundered past the door and into the waiting room.

"It's a very difficult decision," a deep, honey voice murmured. I sensed that the doctor had come in, but I didn't turn around.

"It is a hard thing for young people to understand," agreed a deep voice that must've been her slimy pig of a father.

The doctor paused for a moment before saying, "You may want to put him through grief counseling. Loss is hard to deal with as it is; knowing that someone made the call is even harder."

Understanding had me whirling around viciously, fire burning bright in my green eyes. "You can't make that call! She is still alive!" I stalked up to her mother and father like a bat out of Hell. "You will be murdering her! YOU CAN'T! She is still alive!"

Tears warmed my cheeks as I collapsed to my knees, sobbing the words, "You can't!" and "Murder!" Something occurred to me and I was standing again, screaming at the doctor, calling him every curse word I knew. It was his fault. He was giving them the option. He didn't believe she was going to pull through.

"Charity is the strongest person I know! You can't give up on her. You're an accomplice to this injustice, Leech! You're a filthy murderer! A parasite!" the name-calling came quite naturally. I'd always had an affinity for insults, and this greedy quack of a doctor was not going to get any of my sympathies. He must've been a fake to earn such an invective as leech.

His golden eyes looked deeply disturbed as he stared at me. "I beg your pardon, Miss?" he asked quietly. He looked so darn sincere and grieved by my comments.

I didn't succumb to his act. "No, I beg your pardon!" I replied angrily. "This girl right here is my best friend and you're going to euthanize her like a common dog!"

"We aren't going to inject anything in her. Just take her off oxygen-"

"I don't care what you're going to do. It is still killing her! How can you do that in good conscience, how?"

"The organ systems in her body are slowly shutting down due to the malignancy. I've done all I can do."

Something told me that that was a blatant lie. He could help her. He could. He just didn't want to.

I gestured to the door and walked outside. He followed hesitantly. Yeah, he better be afraid. I shut the door a little too harshly. "You can save her! I don't know how, but you can!"

"I can't-"

"Yes you can!" the scream was filled with agony. I wasn't going to let him let her die. No way, no how.

Another scream crawled its way up my throat. My esophagus was raw and chaffed from the amount of screaming I'd done so far. It was actually burning. Tears were flowing fast and hard, harder than ever. I never cried in front of anyone, ever. What was wrong with me?

My legs gave out… again. Man, I must look like a mess. The doctor knelt down and gently rubbed my shoulders. His eyes, though blurry because of my tears, seemed kind and not as objective as before.

"How important is Charity to you?" he asked gently.

"She's my friend, sir," I sobbed quietly. "Life's been hard to her and she's only seventeen and she deserves to live, like really live. With friends and parents that love her and…" I couldn't continue.

"Sometimes, it is better to die, you know," the doctor murmured to me.

"No, it can't be! God may be waiting for her, but I don't think she's saved, sir. It must be better to give her more time; even an eternity," I hadn't thought about that before. Now that her spiritual state had come to my attention, I cried all the more. If I ever cried again it'd be too soon.

He sighed softly before whispering into my hair, "I will do all that I can, I promise."

"I will hold you to that, Doctor…"

"Cullen."

Of course he was a Cullen. Why hadn't I seen it before? They were all pale as death, yet still very beautiful. His eyes were the biggest giveaway. It was like golden honey and sunshine had been infused inside his pupils. I vaguely wondered if their family wore contacts like mine did, but that was pushed to the back of my mind. I had more important things to worry about.

"Okay, Doctor Cullen. I am entrusting you with her life; use it wisely." My voice was rough sandpaper. It prevented me from adding, 'You may never get that trust back.'

I wiped furiously at my damp face, a fierce blush staining my pink cheeks an even brighter red. He probably thought I was an idiot. Would he tell his kids about this? What if they spread it to the rest of the school?

Man, they'd think I was a nutcase. Screaming at the doctor had been a dumb move, but I'd totally do it again.

A chuckle escaped my throat at the thought. It sounded half-crazed. Okay, back of the brain, back of the brain. I don't have the emotional reserve to mull you over. I ordered my thoughts. I was upset, exhausted, and terribly thirsty. I needed some Kool-Aid and an iron tablet that didn't exist.

I stood up, shrugging off Doctor Cullen's outstretched hand, and went to the waiting room. He didn't follow me, for which I was quite thankful. I couldn't handle anymore of Dr. Cullen for a while.

It was while sitting down in that waiting room that I realized my next biggest dilemma. How was I going to get home? Henry had run off to who knew where and I certainly wasn't going to call Mom and ask her to come pick me up from the one place she didn't want me near.

I couldn't call Laurie because he didn't have a phone, and, even if he did, he'd tattle on me. I groaned with frustration and pulled my phone from my back pocket to scroll through the contacts.

There were only two numbers: Mom work and Mom cell. "Ergh!" I shoved my phone down into my right front pocket. Something papery rustled against my hand. Wait, was I wearing the jeans I wore yesterday?

The paper tugged free easily. The scrawl was messy, messier than I was used to, but I thought I could make out what it said.

Embry Call: (173)453-4568 (A/N DO NOT CALL THIS NUMBER. IT IS MADE UP!)

I shakily dialed his number and listened to it ring. Ring! Ring! Ring! Was he not going to answer? Come on, Dude! Come on! Riiiiiiing! Riiiiiing! Riii-

A lazy, tired voice finally answered, "Hello?"

"Erm," crap, what was I going to say? Didn't he promise me that he'd help me if I ever got into trouble? "Hey, you probably don't remember me, but I'm the girl from Coldstone? I kinda sorta need a favor."

"Oh, okay," his voice seemed to perk up a little. "What can I do for you?"

"Pick me up from the hospital and get me to my house without Laurie knowing you did?"

"Be there in ten. Just gotta check with my al- erm- Jacob."

I hung up and pumped my fist in quiet victory. All I had to do was go downstairs and wait. Of course I'm the only one who can fudge that up.

Ooo. Here goes Anne messing everything up again! Looks like she has a flair for danger. Who could she have possibly gotten that from? Hmm….