Chapter Fourteen (Part Two)

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Abriana

***

I awoke to a pillow being held over my face. I tried to scream, but the oxygen in my lungs had been depleated.

“I’m going to kill you,” whispered a nefarious voice.

Someone please help me, I pleaded.

Hot breath on my neck made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “No one can hear you. It’s just you and me,” said the voice again.

Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep. The last thing I’m going to hear is going to be that stupid heart rate monitor!

As my surroundings began to fade, a loud alarm went off and suddenly the pillow disappeared.

A man in deep blue scrubs rushed in and placed an oxygen mask over my face. He rolled me over and jabbed me in the thigh with a needle.

Before I could protest, an instant feeling of warmth and serenity overtook my body. Unable to keep my eyes open, I passed out into a deep and troubled sleep.

***

Soft warm light filled the room. My eyes fluttered open and landed in my sister’s face. Her lips were pursed and her brow furrowed.

“Lex?”

The look instantly faded. “Bri! You’re up!”

A dull ache in the back of my head caused me to wince as I tried to sit up.

“Here,” said Alexa as she rushed and grabbed two extra pillows off of a nearby chair.

A smile broke out on my face as she gently placed them behind my head.

“Better?”

I nodded. “Much.” I looked around the room and shook my head. “I had such a terrible dream last night.”

Alexa stood and took a step toward the door. “I should get the-”

“Wait,” I said reaching out for her arm. “Easton, is he still alive?”

She bit her lower lip. “Bri, do you really want to know?”

“Yes,” I responded. “I need to know!” I didn’t care if I sounded desperate. I had to know!

Alexa sat down on the edge of my bed and looked toward the door. “He’s alive.”

A mixture of relief and anger crashed through my body.

“But,” said Alexa with a grim expression on her face, “he’s in a coma.”

“A coma,” I repeated.

“Yeah,” said Alexa. “He had a gunshot wound to the head.”

My lips started to tremble as the memories started to flood my mind. The loud boom, followed by the warm sticky substance dripping down my face.

Putting her hand on my shoulder, Alexa looked deep into my eyes. “No one blames you,” she said.

“What?”

She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “No one blames you for shooting him. I mean, come on! The guy kidnapped you and held you hostage!”

“Wait,” I said sitting up in the small hospital bed. “I didn’t-”

Before I could finish, my mother walked into the room carrying two large vases of flowers.

“Abriana! You’re awake!” she exclaimed.

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