The Boy Next Door ✑(h.s.)

twenty nine

"Didn't tell me what?" I ask again, wanting her to just tell me what it is I don't know. My breathing starts to accelerate rapidly, Harry bringing his other arm around me pulling me into his side in efforts to calm me. No matter the gesture the oncoming panic attack was well in its works and would only get worse at the hands of the woman.

She mumbles a few words into the phone, her voice low to where I can't make out all she says. I do pick up a "She doesn't know," and a "I'll bring her." She hangs up the phone shortly after, and rises from her seat. The chair making a nasty screech against the tiled floor, echoing through the empty halls.

She made her way around the desk to where Harry and I stood. "Here, follow me." She spoke, slowly ushering us to follow her.

I wanted so badly to ask what was going on. I was scared out of my mind and I just wanted to see Angie again.

The hallways were narrow, and then open to separate rooms and common areas, and then back to narrow again. The walls white and bland, giving no life to the environment. I'm sure Angie hates it here.

I'm the one who brought her here. "God this place is awful," I whisper to Harry who is walking beside me, hand in hand. My heartrate not decreasing much, but slowly I feel it beginning to even. "I can't believe I made her come here."

"This place is good for her. You did what was right." He reassures as best he can, pulling me into his side and kissing the top of my head as we continue to follow the receptionist.

I still have no clue where we're going, but all I can hope is we find our way to Angie. The few patients I see walking around or through the windows of their rooms seem almost lifeless. Drained.

It's understandable going through these mental and physical stages of withdrawal. God, I only hope Angie still has her light in this dark and dreary place.

I'm pulled out of my endless thoughts when the woman slows to a stop in front of a wooden door. The sign reads Dr. Steven Noor, PhD.

She opens the door and navigates us further into a series of back offices until finally knocking on one. A gentle "Come in" is heard before she opens the door fully, allowing us to walk in first.

Harry and I are ushered to take the seats that lie in front of this mans desk. His balding hair, and aged skin put him fairly old. He sends a gentle nod the receptions way, to which she returns, leaving our presence and closing the door behind her.

I look to Harry as he tries to gayge my reaction to this. This maze being unnecessary to our plans at hand. He seemed to be just as confused as I, but he held it in more as I could tell he wanted to be the stable one.

"Hello," the man speaks, coming around his desk to lean against the front facing us. "Poppy is it?" I nod in response.

"And this is Harry." I say wanting him to know that whatever it is he says Harry should feel just as included. Wether it be just for my sake.

"Pleasure to meet you, I'm Steven, head of the facility here. Mind my asking who you came to see today?"

"I came to see Angela Martin. Or Angie. She prefers Angie." I answered.

He chuckles lightly before responding, "I do recall, made sure the whole staff knew." He paused, taking a moment to prepare his next question. "Again, if you don't mind me asking, what was your relation to Ms. Martin? Or Angie as she preferred."

"She's my sister- best friend. What's happened? Why am I not allowed to see Angie?"

"I see no ones told you." He said just like the receptionist had too. What the hell wasn't I told?!

"No one's told me what?!" I ask, sick of them dodging the question.

He swallows heavily, closing his eys before adjusting his placement. Letting out a deep breath he says, "When was the last time you kept in contact with Angie or her parents?"

"It's been a few months now, but I mean what does that matter?" I begin to gesture wildly with my hands.

"Poppy, I'm sorry." Is all he replies. Was he not going to let me see Angie?

"Sorry for what?! Are you not letting me see my best friend? I snuck out, drove here last night, went through a car breakdown, and lied to my parents just to see her. I need to see her. Please." I pleaded with the man.

"Poppy," he began again. Slow and steady he began to lower to the floor until he was level in my line of sight. "Angie had a lot of problems here. She was angry, and she was sad. But she started getting better. She started getting to know the staff and the other patients, people who went through things just like her. We really thought she was going to be out of here in a few months."

He paused, looking down to the ground, and then to my eyes again. "She was looking great until she had managed to get ahold of some drugs from a patient here, as it had been smuggled in somehow. After going through withdrawals she couldn't handle it."

"I'm sorry to have to tell you Poppy, but Angie's dead."

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rip angie :(

was gonna write more but i think thats a great place to stop, ill update again soon... hopefully