The Truth Will Set You Free

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ATTENTION: 

 Here is a little treat to you all, and partially from request - scenes from the "In 27 Days" world! These won't take me very long to write, so I figured it would only be fair to post these as I plug my way on with finishing "Face Your Fears," which hopefully I can finish soon with the grace of God. Think of these as background information, things you've wanted to know about the characters, and a bit of a "tide-over" until I can post for FYF. And I really hope you like these, because they're super fun to write so far. :D 

So, happy reading, maybe even vote if you'd like, and leave a comment with your thoughts, please and thanks! :) 

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     “Archer. You should go home. Get some rest.”

“Not tired.”

“You haven’t moved from that chair in almost three hours.”

“New personal record.”

Mom heaved an exasperated sigh as she edged into the cramped hospital room, quietly shutting the door behind her.

 I had spent the better part of two days in this hospital room.

I had memorized every crack in the ceiling, every chip in the paint on the walls, the loud groan the chair would make if I moved too far to the left. I knew that the third channel on the TV set was just static, and that the seventh channel only played reruns of Cheers 24/7.

This hospital room had become my own personal Hell. Previously, I had thought that my life was bad enough, what with everything that had happened over the years. Surely that was enough to top somebody’s list of most miserable existence ever.

  I was wrong, though.

After Chris had been killed I had been consumed with overwhelming guilt, possessed with the thought that there was something I could have done to save him from meeting such a terrible end. But, invariably I had come to the conclusion that it hadn’t been my fault. I was only eleven.    What could I have done?

 But this? This was my fault.

If I hadn’t run off so suddenly, if I hadn’t said such terrible things…

Mom sank into the chair beside me, reached out to squeeze my arm.

I shook my arm out of her grasp, not able to look into her eyes and see the pity and sympathy there. I couldn’t handle that. Not right now.

“Archer.” Mom sucked in a breath, about to begin what I assumed was going to be a well prepared speech. “This isn’t healthy. You haven’t slept in days and you haven’t eaten anything in just as long. Honey, I know you’re upset, but running yourself down isn’t going to make Hadley – “

“Shut up, Mom. Just…just shut up, okay?”

Mom didn’t flinch or recoil. She continued to stare at me with the same unwavering stare. If anything, that was just worse.

 She didn’t say anything for several moments.

I returned my attention to Hadley, and felt my heart constrict in my chest again.

She looked…awful. Her pretty face was covered in black and purple bruises and several deep cuts. Her right arm was bound in a cast. When she had come out of surgery after having her appendix removed, I’d cornered the doctor and demanded that he tell me just how exactly Hadley had been injured. The doctor had been frank; a bruised face and a broken arm was one thing, but broken ribs, extensive internal bleeding and with damage to vital organs, Hadley’s chances were rather bleak. That wasn’t even mentioning the cerebral hemorrhaging.

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