Cliché with a player

Chapter 10 - The hug

I wake up in a white room on a bed. The lights above my head are cold and weak but the room gets enough light from the sun and the rays that are colouring it orange. Like it's on fire.

For a moment I get scared. Where am I? What happened? The last thing I remember is the phone call from Andrew. He was not in school that day due to sickness— he's been sick a lot this past few months — and stayed at home with mom, who always took care of us when we weren't feeling well.

His words are still echoing in my head, like ghosts on a abandoned cemetery.

Mom is in the hospital. Dad beat her up. The ambulance came, I don't know who called them.

My brothers voice was trembling and stuttering.

I turn my head to the side and without a warning an overwhelming pain flashes in my back. My eyes close, my lips letting out a low growl.

And I cry. My whole body is shaking when I clasp a hand over my mouth to silence the sobs. My dad beat up my mom so badly, she had to be driven to the hospital and is now lying in one of these rooms.

"Laken!" I hear a cry and then a hand grabs mine. Andrew is massaging the back of my palm with his thumb, waiting for me to calme down.

"Is she...how is she?" I ask after some time.

"Stable." His eyes are framed with almost purple stains, his skin is pale and his lips dry.

I try and stand up but immediately fall back on the mattress.

"You hit your head pretty bad. The doctors said you shouldn't try and get up."

"I don't care. I got this."

He doesn't try to stop me anymore; instead he offers his hand and supports me from the side. We slowly make our way up the hallway and into the elevator. Two floors down is mom. Her room is dark, the drapes shut, she is sleeping. When I see her red-blue-purple face I almost cry again but I bite my lip to suppress the tears. What did she went through this time.

We step closer and I take my mothers hand in mine, just like my brother did before. And I sit next to her for hours, until the doctor comes in and leads me to my room.

"You have to rest. Who let you out of the bed?"

I say nothing.

But before she can starts lecturing me about my health and condition and how to take care of myself, my recklessness, running footsteps interrupt her. Nessa is sprinting down the hall towards us, her eyes wide and red. She obviously hasn't slept a minute despite the fact that it was almost one in the morning. She trows her arms around me and hugs me tightly.

"Oh, thank god! How are you? Stupid, of course you're not okay. I mean..." She abruptly stops talking and hugs me once more.

"I'm better actually," I say and try to smile but Nessa frowns so I'm sure she sees it's forced.

"Now, ladies," says the doctor. "Laken needs to rest." Doctors name is Dr. Moore. Her blond hair are neatly lifted in a ponytail, she's wearing white hospital clothes and shoes with little holes on top. Her eyes are brown and warm, around them dark bags are digging into her skin but she still manages to smile like the sun. "You'll have the time for talking soon. We are not going to keep her long, don't worry," she winks and leaves us.

"She's nice," Nessa observes.

"Mhm."

I don't really hear her. My gaze is fixated on the other end of the hallway, where Matt is walking towards us. His shoulders relax a bit when our eyes meet, but his jaw stays clenched.