I was really impatient. I just couldn't wait to upload this. I almost updated early, but didn't, so... But I will update on Friday! FUN!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Jade's POV

I woke up in a strange room, again, and I panicked. I sat up slowly, my hand instantly rushing to my head as a piercing pain ripped through my skull, tearing every thought from my body. Too make matters worse I couldn't see much. Everything was a blur. It was like looking at the world through your almost-blind friend's glasses. Still, I was determined. I threw my legs over the side of the bed, and I gingerly took a step. The room started spinning and I fell to the ground. I hit a metal tray on my way down and it fell with me. The clattering noise was deafening, and the door to the room slammed an instant later, making my head 10 time worse.

Someone lifted me up off the floor. I started swinging, though they weren't very accurate; I think I landed one punch before a few more people rushed into the room.

They grabbed my arms and subdued me. I blinked a couple of times, and finally, I could see again. Now, with a groan, I realized where I was.

A furious looking doctor glared up at me from the floor, clutching his nose. His white lab coat was now covered in blood; it must have been a hell of a hit. He was probably in his 50's with a rather large gut and a balding head. A couple more nurses rushed to the scene, giggling when they saw the scene before them; a teenaged girl had taken out a middle-aged male doctor. Obviously, this doctor had no respect from the nurses. From the way a few of them took out their phones and discreetly took pictures, it was obvious that they hated him.

The nurses holding my arms led me to my bed. One of them whispered in my ear, "Good job. He deserved it." I smirked a bit at this, which only infuriated the doctor more. He stood up from the ground, brushed himself off and walked towards me; trying to hold onto what dignity he had left.

As he got closer, I read the name on his coat. Stewarts. Dr. Stewarts. He stopped walking a few feet from me and crossed his arms. "What the hell did you do that for? What kind of scum are you? I bet you're in some gang; that's why you were trying to escape. Probably where you got that head injury too," he seethed. The nurses looked appalled. He wasn't doing himself any favors by insulting his patient.

"Fuck off," I spat.

"What were you doing?" he commanded in a snobbish tone.

"I woke up in a strange room. I freaked and tried to leave. There. Are you happy now?"

"Dr. Stewarts, you are the one who left her in the room, unconscious. I think this is your fault," one of the nurses, the same one who had whispered to me earlier, said. She got murmurs of agreement from around the room. He realized he was getting glares from, well, everyone. Stewarts put his hands up and stepped out of the room.

The room cleared quickly, now that the spectacle was over. Only two nurses stayed behind, one of them the nurse who had stuck up for me, the other one I had never seen before.

They stayed for a while, making a huge fuss over whether I was comfortable or not, offering me extra pillows and Jell-O. Apparently, they really hated Dr. Stewarts, and now, I was some sort of hero with the hospital staff.

Finally, I got the familiar nurse, who I now knew as Irene, and the other nurse, Alex, to leave. They talked too much over stupid things like who was sleeping with who and whose grandmother died: the usual gossip… well, except for the grandmother thing. That was weird. And creepy. I mean, seriously, what kind of freak cares about other people's dead grandmas? I didn't.

They were just about to leave when Alex remembered that they hadn't even told me what was wrong with me yet.

"Listen, sweetie," Irene started.

"Don't call me sweetie," I snarled.

"Okay, hon. Here's what happened. You hit your head, hard. You probably just fell or something." I tried to interrupt her, tell her that I was attacked, but she just kept talking. "We gave you some stitches, so don't pick at them. And you got a severe concussion, so whatever you do, don't fall asleep. Got it? Good." She turned to Alex "Let's go get some pudding." They left before I could even tell them about the attack.

I looked around for something to do and found my bag next to the bed. There should be something entertaining in it; after all, just hours earlier, I had stuffed my most precious belongings inside it. Slowly, I bent over and picked it up, my stiff arms groaning in protest. I zipped it open, and my heart sunk. Now, looking at the contents in the light, I could see the extensive damage the past hours had delivered. I let out a string of swears that even the toughest sailor would have cringed at.

Something inside the bag had spilled, so all the papers, of which there were many, were damaged and soggy, some even ripped apart. My laptop and several picture frames had been smashed, and there was so much broken glass I was surprised I hadn't cut myself earlier.

I sighed, my eyes feeling heavier than ever. My life, my work, everything important had been destroyed in just a few short hours. Dramatic as it seems, it was mostly true. And right now, I wanted nothing more than to fall asleep, but I didn't really feel like dying. Not after everything I had gone through last night. So, instead, I started the lengthy process of sorting through the stuff.

Less than fifteen minutes later, my mom walked through the door, wearing completely different clothes than the last time I had seen her. I frowned. My house was pretty far away from the hospital, it shouldn't have been that short of a distance. Even if she had been at the hospital with Henry, she would have had to go home to change.

She looked weary, like the last several hours had been hard on her. Even without makeup, my mom had always looked younger than her age. But now, she looked positively ancient.

Her hair, normally done up in some fancy way, was pulled back into a sloppy bun. Her clothes were a pair of old sweats, clothes I hadn't seen her wear in a long time; not since she and dad were still married. And her expression was sorrowful instead of the usual cold and harsh glares she directed at me.

She hesitated at the door, looking unsure, before slowly moving to sit at the foot of my bed. She smiled a weak smile at me. "Hey," she spoke softly.

"Hey," I responded, wary of her unusual behavior. An awkward moment of silence passed between us. "How'd you get here so fast?"

"Your brother's arm is broken." My eyebrows shot up, surprised, confused, and suspicious. "As it turns out, Henry is… well, he's wanted for burglary, assault, and a mess of other things. When I tried to take him to the hospital, he realized he'd be arrested, so he made me pull over to the side of the road. He pulled your brother out of the car and threw him, breaking his arm. Then he got in the car and drove away. I guess you were right to be suspicious of him."

"Wow. Buncha shit's happened in the past couple of hours, hasn't it?"

"It looks like it has." She was silent for a few seconds, but continued, "I'm sorry he took your car. And, um, it sort of blew up."

I laughed. "Yeah, I know." She took this as a good sign and smiled.

We talked about random crap for a few minutes, but neither of us really knew what to say. Years of avoiding each other were finally taking their toll. A male nurse opened the door. "I'm sorry miss, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave for a few minutes. We need you to fill out some paperwork and stuff," he said gruffly.

"Of course," my mom politely stated, and left the room, looking a little bit relieved. The nurse moved closer to my bed. I finally got a good look at him and froze. He looked familiar. Way too familiar. A hand clamped down over my mouth as I opened it to scream.

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