Hey guys! I am from the land of 10,000 lakes, Minnesota! A few of you guessed correct so as promised here is the next chapter!
Fang's POV-
(Yes FANG'S POV for the first time)
I am almost home when I hear someone calling my name from behind. I whirl around to find Dylan running down the long dirt road that only my house is on.
"Fang stop!" Dylan shouts. I slow down, but don't come to a complete stop. He finally catches up to me, and falls into pace with my speed. I stuff my hands into my pockets.
"Hey." I say.
"I love you!" He says waving his hands in my direction. I stop and take a step back. Dylan laughs and shakes his head. "No, I mean you're awesome. You were so right by talking me into asking Max out. We went out and it was awesome. I held her hand and everything!"
"Did you kiss her?"
"No, but I think I am going to if we go out again."
"Where are you going to take her?"
"I was thinking out to dinner or something."
"Huh, cool. Well I really got get home. My Mom wants me home for dinner."
"Okay, well I just wanted to thank you. See you at school." I wait till he is out of sight before I start making my way down the road. I walk a little ways till I reach the end of my drive way. I continue walking past my house that I live in only six days of the week. About a half mile after I pass my house, I turn onto the thin, almost invisible dirt trail leading into the woods. The tree house that Max, Dylan and I build when we were kids is about a mile or so into the woods. When I am almost there, I stop at the partially hallowed out tree where I hide my sleeping bag, dried food, water bottle, and many other necessities needed for the nights I spend in the tree house.
Now I am sure your wondering why I live in a tree house one night of the week. Well, I'll tell you. A little over two and a half years ago there was an accident. I was twelve years old, and my family was taking its very first vacation. We were going to Mt. Rushmore. We had always been kind of short on money, so we had to drive instead of fly. I remember I was so excited, I would sit in the back seat of the car going on and on about what we were going to do there. If you have ever been in a car for fifteen hours, you know how annoying the people in the car with you can get. Anyways I would go on and on talking about the most random things, and at the time I didn't realize how annoying it got. We were driving through a small town, only about an hour away from our hotel, when I started talking about all the history of Mt. Rushmore . . .
2010
"Hey Mom! Did you know that all of the presidents engraved in the mountain all did something extraordinary? Or that the project was started in 1927? Or that they removed almost 450,000 pounds of rock? Or-"
"Honey, I am very tired of driving. Do you think we could stop talking for a little while-" That is when she turned around in her seat to look at me. It wasn't like she sat there talking to me without watching the road or anything. She just turned to glance at me, but that was all it took for her to go speeding through oncoming traffic. We were semi truck going fifty miles an hour. We were hit on the drivers side, and I can still remember my Mom screaming as she turned back just in time to see the truck collide with our car. My father tried to throw himself in front of my Mom, but the seat belt was restraining him to his own seat. I heard the crunch of our car being crushed, and that was when I blacked out. I woke up one month later in a hospital bed. No one was in my room when I woke up, so I was unaware that I had been in a coma. I threw the covers off the bed, and tried to get up, but found I was attached to about a hundred different tubes and wires. I pulled them off one by one, including my IV, and tried to stand up. When I got to my feet I immediately collapsed to the floor. I had no muscle. I hadn't walked in a month. I guess I had forgotten to pull the heart monitor off my finger, and when I fell, my heart monitor started screaming. That's when I remembered the car crash, and my Mom's screaming. Doctors and nurses flooded my room yelling things like; "He's awake!" and "The coma patient is awake!" Doctors lift me back onto the bed, but I struggle against them.
"Where's my Mom and Dad?!" They wouldn't tell me anything except;
"The therapist will be up to talk to you quickly." I was poked and prodded with needles and all sorts of crap while I waited for therapist. When she arrived, she shooed the doctors and nurses out. She pulled a chair up next to my bed.
"How are you?" She asked. "My name is Dr. Anderson, but you can just call me-"
"Where are my Mom and Dad?" I ask not letting her finish.
"I think you should rest for a little wh-"
"WHERE ARE MY MOM AND DAD!" I shout trying to get out of bed again. The therapist pushes me back into bed and I don't have the strength to fight back.
"Sweetie," She starts. "You were in a car crash. Everyone was very hurt. Your Dad just came out of the coma that he was in three days ago, and you just woke up now."
"But, my Dad is okay?"
"For now." She says nodding her head. Half of my relief has now disappeared, but the rest is saved for my Mom.
"And my Mom?" The therapist puts her hand on my arm, and before she can say anything I say the obvious.
"She's dead, isn't she." Tears are welling up in my eyes, but I manage to make out the blurry image of the therapist nodding her head Yes.
2013
This is a terrible story, I know, but I still haven't told you why I am sleeping in a tree house, so here is the rest . . .
2010
It has been one months since I woke up in the hospital. Two since my Mom died. I have been in therapy at the hospital all this time trying to get my muscle strength back. Today is the day that I am finally going home. Well, not really home but to my Uncle Will's house. My Dad has worse injuries than me, so he has to stay in the hospital longer than I do. Uncle Will is my Mom's half brother, and I have only met him once. It was the worse weekend of my life. Uncle Will is a HUGE drunk, a total crack head, and probably the least responsible person I have ever met. And I get to stay with him for six months until both my Dad and I are well enough to live on our own. Lucky me. I am almost finished packing my suitcase when I hear a knock. I turn around to find the therapist-who's name I found out is Anne-standing in the threshold of my white hospital door.
"Are you almost ready?" She asks. I sigh.
"No." Her shoulders slump, and she comes to kneel in front of me.
"Look, I know you don't want to go, but he is the only blood relative we could find." She is trying to look into my eyes, but I keep turning away. "I might not be so bad." She adds. "Maybe he was just having a bad week when you met him."
"Yeah, and maybe I will grow wings and fly away." I mutter under my breath.
"What?"
"Nothing, lets go." I grab my suitcase and walk out of the room without looking back.
Two hours later, we arrive at my Uncle will's house. A social worker picked me up at the hospital to drive me here. Anne said that she was a very nice woman, but I just saw her as another stranger who had my life in their hands. I get out of the car, and take a look at the house standing in front of me. And gosh what a mistake that was. It isn't even a house at all. It is a tiny double wide trailer. The social worker puts her arm around my shoulder, and walks me up to the house. She looks around for a doorbell, and when she can't find one, she just knocks on the door. After about a whole five minutes, Uncle Will finally comes to the door, (and I really wish I hadn't seen that either) and sticks his head out the doorway and says;
"You got the stuff?" The social workers mouth falls open, but shakes it off.
"Um, sir, this is your nephew, Nick-"
"I like to be called Fang." I tell her for the billionth time today.
"Like the tooth?" Uncle Will asks. I slowly nod my head yes. "So, uh, what'r you doin' here?" He asks the social worker.
"Sir, I talked to you on the phone a week ago. You will be watching Nick-"
"Fang!"
"And his father-when he gets better-until they are able to live on their own." He chews on something in his mouth while he thinks about this.
"Whatever." He says walking back into the house, leaving the door open for us to come in. I won't tell you about what happened on over the next hour, but here is a quick overview . . .
His house reeked of alcohol, the kitchen is in the living room, and the one bedroom in the house is being used for (personal business.)
After the tour, the social workers face showed that she wanted to pick me up and run for the hills, or any other place that is a million miles away. I am praying that she does, but unfortunately, she doesn't. After she leaves, Uncle Will goes straight into the bedroom. I have no idea what I am supposed to do now so I just sit on the couch. This will be the longest six months of my life.
2013
Now I realize I still haven't told you why I am living in a tree house once a week, and you will find out eventually, but I still have much more to tell you, and this chapter is big enough as it is, so-I know you are going to hate this-
To be continued . .
Hey guys! Hope you liked the cliff hanger! Next chapter will be up soon!