Punk dropped herself on the couch. Everyone had left, even Amy. She was completely stranded in that house. She turned on the T.V. after lying herself out and covering up with a blanket. She watched the news half heartedly. She missed Drake and she hated herself for missing him.

"A boy has been found beaten and unconscious in the north side of town…" the television shouted at her. "He has sustained many stab wounds to his chest shoulders and neck. When taken to the hospital for further examination he was found to have many bruises and scars over his entire body. He's about 6 feet, blonde, blue eyes, muscular build. We haven't been able to find any identification for this young man. If you have any information please go to Saint Helens Hospital or call us at 601-756..." Punk didn't pay much attention until she looked up and say Drake staring back at her.

"Hello?" Eb said after yelling at his friends to shut up.

"Eb, come get me. You got to take me somewhere."

"Punk, I'm at Joey's house. I'm busy. I'm tired. And most importantly I'm stoned."

"I don't care. You are going to take me to the hospital Ebony William Johnson."

"Hospital? Are you alright?"

"Are you coming to get me or am I going to have to walk all the way over there in the middle of the night and get picked up by some serial killer?"

"Punk, just stay in the house. I'll be home soon."

"No, I'll get a cab and I'll use your money."

"Punk!"

"Bye-bye, Ebony."

She hung up on him and went to his room to rummage around his drawers, looking for money." Twenty...five...one...one...Why the hell are people so poor?!?...one-two ones-three ones...Ugh! This is taking too long! What the hell? Like he needs this many condoms...Fuck this!"

She threw down the twenty-seven dollars that wouldn't even get her half way there, pulled on Drake's jacket and headed out the door.

It took Punk almost an hour to walk all the way to St. Helens. She was soaked with rain and was wearing only a pair of shorts, a shirt that didn't fit properly since 5th grade, a pair of dirty flip flops, and a letterman's jacket. She looked homeless with her make up washed off and smudged all over her cheeks.

"Ma'am? Ma'am, are you alright?"

Punk turned to face her "Oh, um I'm here-because I saw- saw the thing-on the news." She says out of breath.

"Hold up sweetie. Calm down. What thing on the news?"

"About the boy! His name is Drake Jones, he's 17 years old, can I see him? What happened to him? I bet it was him! I bet he did it! Can I go see him now?" She was talking so fast she could barely understand herself but she had to see him. She wanted to see him so bad...to make sure he was alright.

"No you have to tell me everything. Did you say you know who hurt him?"

"No. I-I don't know. I don't know why anyone would hurt him. He's real popular." She said awkwardly. A bright red blush stained her whitewash cheeks.

Not good...not good...Drake would kill me if I told...just let me see him damnit! Please, Please...

"Please" she said aloud. The nurse looked at her questioningly.

"Please let me go see him. I really want to see him."

She sighed "Fine, he's room 237. It's on level four. I'll need to get this information later though."

Punk nodded graciously before she took off for the elevator.