A/N: Ok, so after a lot of planning I've finally figured out a storyline. I figure it'll evolve into around 17 chapters long, depending on how many parts I break it up into. Anyway, I love constructive criticism, so read and review!
Chapter 6: Three Months Later
"Three months...I cannot believe that it's been three months since that day in the room and the confrontation with my mother. I can't really tell if things are better, but I know they've calmed down quite a bit. Mom decided at well, everyone's persistence, that she'd cool it with the heart to heart talks and just leave me alone. She told me that above all she was worried I'd never feel at home here, that I would never feel like I had a place anywhere. I brushed it off as untrue, but in a way I'm just lying to myself. Either way, I've just decided to push all those feelings aside and get on with my life.
Two months ago, I went back to school. I'm no longer at that stupid college prepatory school they insisted on making me go to, but the local public school. It's here that I've found a real sense of belonging. The first day here, I wasn't treated like some oddball curiosity - I was treated like any other new student. I've made a great group of friends who don't dwell on my past, but give me friendship with no strings attached. I go to school, go out with friends and now live the life I've dreamt of having since the age of six. I still have plenty of days that I'd rather be alone and days that I refuse to acknowledge my past - but the good ones I find are slowly pushing away the bad. Above all, I hope that things stay this way..." -A.H.
I glanced up at the clock hanging on the north wall of my geometry classroom. Sighing, I went back to doodling in my notebook as my teacher droned on...I'd been doing this for the past thirty minutes. Right in the middle of a particularly nice daydream about my gorgeous Uncle Chase, myself and a white stallion galloping along the white sand beaches of the Caribbean - a sharp jab in the ribcage brought me back into reality.
Bridget had just stabbed me, and told me to pay attention - apparently she noticed my glazed over expression and pointed out that my teacher did as well. I sighed and attempted to pay some attention. Leave it to Bridget, the math whiz to bring me back into reality and actually take this class seriously.
Bridget O'Malley I guess, is what you would call my "best friend." I met her for the first time at the hospital where mom and dad work, her parents work in the oncology department with Uncle Jimmy and occasionally give consults to the diagnostics department. It shocked me even more to learn that we lived next door to each other! Her parents moved her whole family over from Ireland at the age of ten and she too knows what it was like to experience the feeling - one where you're not sure you belong. Although I have no idea what she is talking about half of the time - she has gorgeous guys swarming all over here for the same reasons as my Uncle Chase...the accent. Her parents are friends with my parents and we end up seeing a lot of each other. It's fantastic to have somebody who understands you...somebody who isn't always looking to fix the bad, but just accepts you as you are.
I sighed and attempted to pay some attention. I may love science, but math is something I'd desperately love to leave out of the picture. I wonder if you can get into medical school without it? Probably not, but if you asked Dad, he'll just tell me to look at Chase and the answers will fly right in front of my face. I hate laughing when he picks on him so much...but it's just too funny. I've still got five more classes till the day ends, but I've checked out of my mind long ago. I wonder if it's possible to sleep with your eyes open?
After school plans were already beckoning me. Since I've been here, I've discovered a whole new world of things I didn't know existed. I've taken up the bass guitar (Dad considers my love of punk and not the stones pure blasphemy), skateboarding and continue to pursue horseback riding. Trying to stay busy every second of the day keeps my mind off things that I'd shoved aside. It's a lot nicer to deal with normal problems like who's going to give me and Bridget a ride to the mall after school, than worrying about how I'll be able to avoid getting beat up by David.
"So, are we going to go to PPTH and oogle your hot uncle after class? -B" is the note that landed on my desk a moment after I'd finished with my brief journey through the land of somber thoughts. Shedoesn't give up, she really doesn't. Bridget says her life plan is to go to college and complete medical school, but I often wonder if she'll make the news first for being the underage lover of some thirty year old man! She laughs when I tell her this, tells me to make sure the made for television movie portrays a girl with a bigger chest than she currently has.
I picked up the sheet of paper, and wrote: "Not on your life - he may look like he's in his twenties, but he's a million years older than you...not a chance girl," and waited till my teacher wasn't looking before throwing it back on her desk. She looked a tad disappointed that "Chase Watching" wasn't going to be included in our after school activities, but picked up her pen and scribbled a note back to me.
"Fine...you're such a poor sport. How about instead of going back to your place we take our skateboards and head over to the hospital and use the front entrance as a skate park again? I still can't get over the look on Cuddy's face the last time she caught us in action...or the look on her face as she caught your dad cheering me on from behind a shrub, as I pulled off a grind down the steps to the front entrance! I say we bring along some of the guys this time too...I love making a scene!" came the reply. I had to laugh just thinking about that particular day. Aunt Lisa had come out of the main hospital entrance in time to see Bridget plummet down the staircase rail. She was just going to chase us off, when she caught sight of my dad hiding behind a large bush, watching and egging us on. She was two seconds from beating him over the head with his own cane. As punishment, Dad ended up with more clinic hours and Bridget and I had to deliver mail all afternoon.
I smiled and wrote, "It's a plan," back on the paper and tossed it back to her, right before my teacher turned around and gave us another death glare. She opened up the note and gave me a thumbs up.
We were sitting in our next period English class when an office assistant came into the classroom. She handed an office note to my teacher, who in turn looked directly at me. Bridget and my friend Ryan gave me questioning looks as the teacher told me to grab my things and go up to the main office. Someone in the back of the classroom yelled "Oh man, she's in trouble again!" as I worriedly grabbed the note and walked down the hallways to the office. I can't help it if trouble seems to follow me around…okay I can't help it if I like CREATING it.
When I got there, the secretary told me somebody from my parents work was here to pick me up and take me back to the hospital. There was an ongoing emergency with my dad and my mother sent him to pick me up and take me, as the rest of my family was busy with work. I nodded, quite upset, wondering what on earth could be going on. I walked into the waiting area of the front office and a large man stood up. He was wearing a PPTH identification badge, but by then I was so worried I barely glanced at it...I didn't recognize him as anybody from the hospital.
We walked out to the parking lot and he directed me to a large slate blue truck and I climbed into the passenger seat. He got into the driver side, unclipped his hospital ID and threw it in the back seat. I turned and asked him what was wrong with my father, why did I have to get there immediately...was he okay? The man just looked at me and said nothing. He pulled away from the parking space and upon leaving the parking lot, he turned the opposite direction of the hospital. My stomach lurched as I asked him once again.
"WHAT IS GOING ON?" I said to him again, this time so forcefully it could have been considered a yell.
The man waited until we were off of the main road before he pulled over. I knew by now that we were definitely not on our way to my parents work. I was beginning to get scared, but asked him once again what was wrong with my father...was he at a different hospital? Where were we going?
The man unbuckled his seat belt and leaned towards me. He raised his large hand and brushed it up against the side of my cheek. I immediately cringed and moved closer to the door. I grabbed the handle and tried to open it, finding that the door locks had been applied. The man continued to run his hand down my cheek and whispered into my ear, "You're never going to see your father again...ever."
A feeling of deja vu overtook every emotion I had at that moment. A single tear started it's descent down my cheek as the man pulled back and started the car up again, pulling off down the deserted road. I was silent for a few moments and mustered up the courage to speak.
"What's your name?" I found myself asking.
Before I could receive a response, the man lifted the side of his suit jacket up, revealing to me a large black gun nestled inside a holster. My eyes grew wide as he told me now was not the time to be asking names...I'd better cooperate or I'd pay the price. I told him to fuck off, that I wasn't going to let this happen to me again. The man stopped the car once again, leaned towards me and I instantly and rather frantically tried to grab the door handle...willing it to open. The man raised his hand towards my head and bashed it into the glass window on the passenger side.
All I remember is seeing stars, quickly growing vertigo and an immense feeling of pain before my eyes closed.