Porcelain Skin

24.5K 809 947
                                    

It was strange to think about. George's life flew by a mile a minute, the only time he found peace and quiet was in the hospital at which he worked. He found a simple comfort in the place where most people came to say goodbye. It was just past midnight now, the waiting room was empty other than the Founder siblings... and Clay. After returning to George's house, Clay followed George to the hospital to support him. Eliza was sitting in a chair, her knees drawn to her chest and her eyes drooped with exhaustion. Clay was beside her, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. This left George. George was standing, pacing around the room, mumbling things under his breath. 

Clay watched as George walked back and forth and back again. The waiting room was so quiet. It was unnerving. The only sounds was George's frantic steps and the receptionist's clicking. Just a few hours ago, everything was so perfect. Clay could almost still feel George's warmth in his arms. 

"George." A sudden, yet firm voice called. Clay looked up and recognized it as Dr. Major. His doctor from when he broke his foot. George stopped in his tracks and turned to face the doctor. Clay couldn't make out the emotion plastered on the doctor's face. The doctor and George looked at each other for a second. Anxiety filled the room. Clay noticed George had balled his hands into fists, and they were turning white from force. He was shaking. 

Clay knew George for such a short amount of time, yet Clay knew almost everything about him. All the untold signs Clay picked up. He knew for a fact George was breaking, cracking like glass  under pressure. But he was putting on a brave face for his sister. Clay glanced over at Eliza who was officially asleep. So young.

"Scott..." George's voice wavered with sadness. Dr. Major shook his head and sighed. 

"A week, that's if she's lucky. She's in a medical induced coma." Major explained, his voice hushed. Not even a mouse could hear him. George nodded in returned. 

"Thank you doctor..." Even though George's back was towards Clay, Clay knew he was crying ever so softly. 

"Take the week off George, you need to be with he-"

"No!" George cut him off. He quickly glanced over his shoulder too see if his sudden outburst had waken Eliza. "I cant... not now... i... i really need the money more than ever." George whimpered. Clay couldn't take it anymore. He stood up and walked over. 

"George you don't need to worry about money, not right now..." Clay put a hand on George's back, who recoiled at the touch. George straightened out his back and stood up as tall as he could. George avoided eye-contact with Clay as he spoke, looking forward. 

"I don't need your charity Clay." His voice was filled with sudden harshness. "I do very well on my own. I don't need you." The words pierced Clay's heart, they had cut deeper than any blade ever could.

"George-" Major tried to speak again.

"Clay, please take my sister home." George asked. Clay stared at him. He looked so pale, you could have said he was a ghost if you ever did see him. Major looked back and forth between the two teens and sighed. 

"I... I will..." Clay frowned. If George was pretending to be okay for Eliza, then Clay would pretend to be okay for George. Clay spun on his heels and walked to get Eliza and leave.

George remained in his spot, standing tall. As soon as he heard the glass door of the main entrance close, he turned to Major. Major had a look of pity and sorrow painted on his pale face. George gave a nod. 

"I'll be in tomorrow for my Sunday shift..." 

"No, George. Take the week off-" But it was too late. George was walking away and was already out the door.

George didn't want to go home, he didn't want to face Clay, and he sure as hell didn't want to face his sister. Like an ancient Greek sculptor, carefully chiseling away as the stone, George felt his brave face begin to strip away. He couldn't go home just yet.

In fact, George could not go anywhere. He didn't have the money for a hotel room, and he didn't want to speak to anyone so going to Bad's house wouldn't work. He didn't want to be vulnerable, not yet. He knew of one place no one would find him, he was just there hours earlier. George suddenly became very aware of the watch on his wrist.

The drive to the hidden place was silent. The radio was off and the soft hum of the engine was drowned out by George's own thoughts. Soon, the city road dropped off into a dense forest. Now it was nearing two in the morning, and the first snow fall of the season was starting. It was so light and fluffy, small specks of snow drifted slowly to the floor as George pulled up beside the pond. 

He jumped from his car and rushed to the bank of the pond where he skirted to a halt. His breathing was rasped and hard as he stared out onto the open water. His porcelain skin finally shattered, leaving the scared little boy behind. 

He screamed. He screamed out onto the pond. He collapsed to his knees as the floodgates in his eyes opened. Like rivers the tears flowed down his cheeks as he screamed. You'd think he was getting murdered by the shear blood-curdling yells. 

He smashed his fists into the cold ground over and over, not taking notice to it tearing his flesh and making him bleed. George felt like he couldn't breathe. With each sob, his lungs deflated further. Air just escaped him, he grabbed at his stomach and throat in fear at his lack of breath. He was drowning. He cursed the name of God. If there was a such higher power, wouldn't they seek to give George pity? Why would they take away his mother? She wasn't dead but she might as well be.

Snow started to accumulate on the floor now. George sat back on his heels and sobbed. He felt so guilty. He was being selfish by being here, by screaming and crying. He should be home, with his sister caring for her. Eliza was so much more important right now George's feelings weren't. So why couldn't he stop crying? Rage, fear and pure pain seeped into his cries out. 

George was so alone. 

It was snowing a little harder now, the cold air nipping at George as he cried. He wasn't wearing a proper jacket for this weather, but he was to wrapped up, he didn't notice how absolutely freezing he was. The half-frozen tears and snot that trickled down his face stung like hell. 

He didn't hear the soft rumbled of a car pulling up, and barely comprehended the arms being wrapped him. 

Lean On Me (DNF)Where stories live. Discover now