Sublime • Rosalie Hale

[01] NO DRUGS IN THE HOUSE, PLEASE

"No," he laughs. "There's no smoking in a hospital anyway."

Sydney frowns, and when he does he suddenly can feel exactly where every cut sat along his face.

"I read your files after you were admitted and I noticed you're in foster care. Do you mind telling me where your foster parents are? I'm sure they're worried sick about you, Sydney." Dr. Cullen adds.

"They don't give a shit about me." Sydney scoffs, suddenly on edge. "All they care about is getting their fat check every month from the state."

Dr. Cullen's fine blond eyebrows raise at his words. It was true after all, Sydney thought, they didn't care what he did as long as he showed up on inspection days. Assholes.

"That's quiet alarming. Have you told anyone about this?" He asks, the level of genuine concern in his voice surprises Sydney.

He shakes his head. Sydney was seventeen and a half, why would he screw things up when he only had six more months left of this hell hole?

Six more months until he tasted- no, savored freedom.

"I see." Dr. Cullen stood tight-lipped for a while before suddenly gathering the clipboard tightly into his chest and left Sydney alone once again.

Only this time he did not return for hours.

In the meantime, Sydney took advantage of free cable and watched reruns of 'The Dukes of Hazard', longing for a car like that one one day- minus the confederate flag on the top.

A new nurse also came in with a tray of food, leading Sydney to guess the original nurses didn't want anything to do with him- most people didn't, anyway.

Out of curiosity, Sydney asks the nurse about where Dr. Cullen has run off to, and he was surprised to feel a bit disappointed when she said he had went home for the day.

And just like that, the bitterness in Sydney's heart returns.

He slumped in his bed, picking at the ABC soup until there was none left and slurped the red Jell-O as obnoxiously as he could. After all, who was listening?

No one.

The hours merged together into night and Sydney's pain medication pulled him back into slumber. That night Sydney dreams about robo cops and Paul Newman.

It must've been early the next morning when Sydney was awoken by the sound of murmuring outside the curtains of his room. After years of living in less than adequate boys homes, Sydney had quickly learned to sleep with one eye open.

Although he couldn't hear what the voices were saying, his blood turns to ice the moment he recognizes the blue straight leg pants from the other side of the curtain.

Switching into flight mode, Sydney slides off the bed- taking his IV with him- and this time carefully lands onto the floor. He swings his boot with each calculated step and stands still beside the curtain, waiting. He could feel the blood pulsing in his ears.

"Alright," a deep voice says. "Let's see if you're right."

With every muscle coiled, the moment the cop steps through the curtains and into the room, Sydney swings the IV pole with every ounce of strength he can conjure up.