Disclaimer: I don't own Life with Derek.
A/N: So I'm gonna be gone for about five days, but I'm still going to write. Or try too.
Chapter 13… Blink
x o x x o derek's p.o.v. o x x o x
What… in the hell… was that!
I didn't even answer my dad and Nora's inquiries as I rushed past everything. I needed out. Everything was too bright. I needed the dark. Where my thoughts might be hushed. Where fear might drown them out.
I finally found an exit door and pushed hard against it, using more force than needed. The door fell heavily behind me with an unearthly sound that caused me to jump.
Well, it wasn't total darkness. I was standing in front of a practically empty parking lot. Complete with those annoying light posts emitting ugly orange-yellow light over everything.
There were no steps and nothing to sit down on, so I just backed into the door and slid down.
I thanked God it was quiet. Well, except for the freeway about a block away from the parking lot. But even that could be muted by my thoughts.
I wanted to do more than what I'd done. But right when our lips met, I remembered. She's my stepsister. And I remembered the weird looks from everyone in English as I broke down right there on the floor, my uncontrollable sobs filling the room. I had felt someone try to place a comforting hand on my back, but I shook it off and looked around me to see Sam kneeling next to me. And I just turned and hugged him, tight. And he hugged me back. It didn't feel awkward because it was exactly what I needed. But I had a feeling Sam had something to do with all of this. Like that night the last time they broke up. I knew Sam was going to tell her he'd found someone else. He did. And I was actually proud of him. Or at least, that's what I'd convinced myself I was.
The paramedics came and I said I wanted to ride in the car with them. No one objected, not even Mr. Treach. I remember one of them trying to talk to me on the way to the hospital.
"We're gonna do all we can to help her…" some guy said. He was about 21 with messy black hair and sharp blue eyes. "Is she your girlfriend?"
My eyes left Casey's face to look at him a second. "No… My stepsister."
"Oh," he said awkwardly.
See? No one would ever accept the feelings I have. I bet Casey's in there, thinking about how disgusting it was to have me kissing her.
The thought caused me to stand up rather quickly. Well, quick enough to feel my head spin from the pressure. And I began to walk towards the parking lot and around to the front the hospital, not glancing back until I reached the sidewalk.
"Bye Casey," I said quietly, as if I was still standing there kissing her.
And then I went to lean on the bus stop pole, thinking.
A trip to the States sounds nice…x o x x o x x o x x o x x o x x o x
x o x x o casey's p.o.v. o x x o x
After she closed the door, I sat still in my bed for a moment, like if I could sit still enough, that's how I'd be for the rest of my life. My eyes were painfully fixed on the door, but once I wrenched them away, I looked back at the food tray. The spork was still intact. I stared at it a moment, my mother's words reverberating throughout my thoughts. I love you, Casey.
She loved me. And I was about to rip that piece of her heart to shreds. Just because I didn't want to be better. I don't think I'll ever get better. Which is why I have to do this. Maybe it's not so selfish. I won't be such a burden anymore. Just a memory. Albeit a pretty messed up one, but still…
With a shaking hand, I gripped the spork tight in my hands. And preceded to remove everything attached to me (Don't even get me started on how painful it was to remove the catheter…) until it was just me in a hospital gown, sitting precariously at the edge of the bed. I quickly scanned the room for a bag, something that held normal clothes. And I looked through the dresser near my bed. And there, in a plastic bag, were my clothes and jewelry. I sighed with relief. Grabbing them, I rushed (Well, as quickly as someone in my condition can.) to the corner of the room, searching for the most privacy even though no one could see.
After pulling on each article of clothing carefully (I was still sore from whatever they did…), I looked out the windows of my room. The ones that viewed a dark, cloudy sky, completely devoid of a moon. And I saw that I was (thankfully) on the first floor.
I walked closer to the window and reached up to the latch. Click.
Fuck, I thought, covering my ears quickly at the shrill ringing that was suddenly pulsing through the building, so loud I thought I felt the floor vibrating beneath me.
So I'd left out the possibility of alarms.