Girly Boys {boyxboy}

Chapter 13: Isabell

I stared at his sleeping face, which looked so vulnerable and sick. I knew I was only eleven and a half, but I was way smarter than my age fortold. Hadie looked so pale like this. It sickened me to think my own mother, the one who healed my ails, could actually lock her son away while knowing he was injured. I struggled against believing that this was simply a terrible dream and that if I closed my eyes, I'd awaken, shivering from the false reality of it in my own bed.

However, how could I believe that fantasy when I saw her carry his limp body down the creaking basement steps and chain his ankles to the stone wall. I'd always known there was something pathologically wrong with my mother. Although she was a great actor, I could always see straight through those sickeningly sweet smiles she assumed portrayed her love for her ' older daughter'. Yeah, right.

Even though i'm young, I think I'm old enough to know that girls do NOT have penises. Especially since I was one myself.

Shaking my blonde head once again, I scooted away from his unconscious body, careful not to glance at his leg. It triggered my gag reflex to look at the molted flesh. Besides, it wasn't bent the right way, honestly, I was surprised he hadn't noticed. But, maybe his fever was gone too far for him to actually feel his body. I could, that's for sure though. Just sitting near him, I felt a blistering wave of heat from him.

I knew he wasn't gonna last long. He was beginning to smell, which was a definite sign of infection. And, he'd been missing from the outside world for only three days. I'd read that infection can kill a person. I knew I couldn't go against my mom, but I wasn't gonna let her kill my brother. No way in h-e- double- hockey- stick.

I crept up the stairs, careful to avoid the third step since it creaks. Mother didn't think I knew what she was doing, and I wasn't going to clue her in either. I listened for a second, then, hearing the clang of pots from the kitchen, inched the basement door open and darted out. I was practically safe when my big toe smashed into the living room table leg and I squealed. I instantly cut the sound, but it was worthless.

" Isabell, is that you, sweetBell?" like she didn' t know, I scoffed in my head. Play nice, I reminded myself. Hadie was counting on me.

" Yes, mommy, it's me," deciding to push her, I asked. " Where's Hadie, mommy?"

My voice screamed innocence as I had practiced.

" He's at his friend's house, sweetBell." She simpered. The fat liar.

" Oh, okay, well I hope he comes back soon. Mom, I'm going to school now." I said sweetly, heading out before she could comment on the fact that I was too early to catch a bus that arrived at eight.

I walked down the drive, light since a schoolwork- laden backpack didn't burden my back. I frowned slightly, trying to remember how to get to Hadie's school, then I turned to the right since I finally remembered.

as I crossed the traffic heavy street, I waited for the lady with the stop sign to come to my aid. I followed her signalling and made it to the other side where Hadie's school stood proud. Danesville High

I headed toward the entrance, glancing around for one of Hadie's friends. Although I knew none of them, since mommy reacted badly whenever they came with Hadie to the house, which was another reason I knew my mom was weird around my brother. Since whenever I brought friends over, she loved them almost like they were relatives, but she treated his friends almost coldly.

Anyway, I only knew his friends by sight, so I knew how difficult this would be. Hadie needed me though. I was the only one who could help him and I wasn't going to let him down.

I started my search.

Hadie' s POV

My body felt hot. Uncomfortably so. I shifted while semi- unconscious. I tried to swallow, but my mouth was parched. How long had I been asleep? My body suggested it had been ages. I ripped my crusted eyelids apart and sat up. Or at least, I tried to.

A horrible pain shot throughout the length of my right leg and up my spine. I screamed through it. It was worst than anything I could ever have imagined on my own. I had never felt anything like it. I felt tears curling along my face, and I suddenly felt weak. I slumped against the wall and attempted to soften my gasping breathes.

I felt my brain creeping away from the almost tangible pain fogging my thoughts, and, gratefully, I let it. I didn't want to feel anything, so this was a blessing. I slipped from the stone wall to the floor. I saw white spots flicker over my sight and a darkness slithered toward me. This darkness felt different than simple unconsciousness. It spoke of more permanence. And, as it came closer and closer, I felt my limbs grow limp and flop at my sides. Even the pain became less overwhelming.

And as it covered my head, I heard the crash of broken wood shattering and police sirens.