Wake. UP. [Book Two]

Mr. Perez

*March 8th 2029 - Midnight*

I was whisked to the emergency room, after what happened. Mr. Perez came into my room, and saw me half dying. He thought I was having an asthma attack, but after giving me my inhaler, it only made it worse. I still couldn't breath and he became scared, so he drove us to the emergency room, where I lay now in a hospital gown. I'm plugged up to the machines, with IVs in my arm and staring at my hands, not wanting to make contact with Mr. Perez. His knee was shaking, and he looked tired. It was silent between us, and I'm sure he was rethinking the whole "Mariah's new guardian" situation.

"Ahem, good evening Mr. Perez."

The doctor came in the room, shaking hands with a nerve wrecked man.

"G-good evening doctor. How is she?" He hastily asked, as the doctor readjusted his glasses.

"She'll be okay. We weren't able to figure the cause of her lungs failing. We're going to assume that with the big move, and the sudden changes, her heart couldn't handle it."

They wouldn't believe me if I told them what really happened. Mr. Perez just inhaled, deeply, before taking off his glasses to rub his face. He looked genuinely concerned for me. They shouldn't worry, I'm fine.

"Okay, thank you doctor."

"You're welcome. We're glad you brought her here in time." He checked his clipboard. "She'll be able to go shortly."

The men shook hands a final time, and the doctor finally left. Mr. Perez looked my way, and I quickly dropped my head. I didn't want to see the hurt in his face. He took my hand and made me look at him.

"Please, don't scare me like that. Okay?"

Why is he touching you?

I don't know, he-

You know how I feel about him. Pull your hand away.

I did as told, pulling my cold hand out of Mr. Perez's warm one. I tucked my arms under my legs and looked down. He only sighed and stood there, waiting for my answer.

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I woke up early, considering my nervousness from last night. All that had happened in only a few hours, frightened me. I never knew my friend was so strong, or demanding. He's dealt with me before, but it never left dark red marks. They hurt whenever I touched them. I didn't feel like being questioned about it, so I threw on a long sleeve black t-shirt after I did my hygiene routine. I stood in front of the full length mirror, seeing my skinny figure. I had smaller boobs than the average girls at my school. My curves hadn't come in yet, and my ass was small. There was absolutely nothing attractive about me. I was ugly.

"Knock knock. Are you decent?"

I raced to get denim shorts on, they were laying on my bed covers. Once they were on, I cleared my throat.

"C-cooomeee in..." My throat was dry and raspy, making my voice unclear and unrecognizable. He still heard me, and entered into the room. His hair was going all which way. He wore a white beater, showing his tattoos and chiseled, veiny arms.

"I-I made breakfast."

I looked his way, seeing the sun beam through my window on his skin. His aroma filled the air, Old Spice maybe. I nodded and he disappeared behind the door. I fixed my shirt, pulling my shorts down a bit.