Hello dear reader! Here I am! I am sorry I haven't been updating frequently, I have a couple reasons for that. Number one is school, second comes personal .. interests such as watching shows, reading, dancing.. And last but not least the most important one of all- acces to a computer. My computer recently broke so that leaves my dad's old laptop -the one I am typing this on as we speak-, my phone, the library and computers at school. Anyway, here is an update and I hope I will have more time to write in the future.
As for this chapter, I've had a lot of trouble with it. I'm not happy with the way it is now, and I've rewritten it multiple times. Oh boy, I just shouldn't crave so much.. crazy drama. Oh well, I just want to put it online, so here it is. I might rewrite it again later though.
The room the teenager was in was dark. Or maybe he wasn't in a room. Maybe his eyes weren't opened either, he didn't know. He tried to move, but it felt like he didn't have a body at all. Like he was just merely a soul without its host. It was uncomfortable. He started to wonder if he were dead.
''Car accident. Sat in the passenger's seat next to the driver. Passenger's state is much worse than the driver's. We should contact his doctor for further information considering this boy.''
''I already have all the data she possesses right here. She asked us for more details, actually.''
''What? I don't have those. You should ask Breyman for that kind of information. He keeps all of that. It's strange though, he never gives out all the data available… Anyway, I'll go check on the other and contact family. Would you please visit Breyman?''
The boy slowly started to become aware of his body. This started with pain. It felt like he was stabbed everywhere. All the time. He tried opening his eyes, but he failed. Such a simple task, why was it so hard to do? He had never had any trouble with doing such things before. It should be easy. Yet, it wasn't. Even trying sucked all of the energy he had out of him.
''Mr. Breyman, good evening, sir. How are you doing today?'' a young Asian man, who appeared to be in his early twenties, asked. He was wearing white clothing and had a clipboard in his right hand. Little droplets of sweat were sliding down his face as he smiled nervously.
''I am fine,'' said Mr. Breyman. He spun his chair around, now facing his desk and the man that stood in front of it. ''thanks for asking. Now, what is it that you want?''
''Files,'' the man answered, surprised by his own straightforwardness. ''files with every single detail.''
''Now, now... Mr..'' Breyman leaned forward and narrowed his eyes as he read the little name tag the man wore. ''Lee. Care to explain yourself?''
''I need the files of Logan Mitchell, that is all,'' Mr. Lee said. His voice didn't sound quite the same, since he just dropped the nice act and got straight to the point. ''there is nothing that I need to explain. You know exactly what I am talking about. So just give the damn files.''
''Don't you already have those files?'' the older man sighed and he shook his head. ''What else could I give you? A copy of the papers you already have? Wouldn't that be.. useless?''
''Quit. Playing. Hand them over. This is a serious situation. Allow yourself to lose for once, we have lives to save.''
Mr. Breyman raised from his chair and searched one of his drawers. After a short while of going through multiple files, he pulled out a couple of old and stained papers. He handed them over to Mr. Lee, who had raised his eyebrows when seeing the state the pages were in.
''I hope you feel good about yourself. Have fun with this failed experiment.''
''Where am I?''
James opened his eyes and was met with the sight of a ceiling he didn't know. How did he end up here? Where was ''here'' anyway?
''A hospital.''
The teenager blinked a couple of times before turning his head to see the source of the reply. It was one of his friends, Kendall Knight. He was sitting on a wooden chair, legs crossed and eyes closed.
''What about Logan?'' James asked. He pulled himself up into a sitting position and threw the sheets aside. He bit his lower lip before repeating his question. ''Hey, Kendall. What about Logan?''
''Do you really want me to talk?'' Kendall calmly asked. ''Because I think that if I do, I might explode. It's better for me to keep my mouth shut right now, because I am pissed.''
''I get it,'' James whispered as memories from before flashed before his eyes. The argument, making up, spying on their friend, texting that same friend, going out for a ride, crashing... Everything after that was vague. He remembered a blurry image of Logan with a bloody face and a ripped shirt. But he couldn't tell if that was real or just a dream. He really hoped it was the latter, though he feared it was the former.
This was a short and crappy chapter. I'm sorry. Please review and give me suggestions, because I feel like I need them.