Fighting For Hope

Chapter Twenty

"It's generally more fun playing the villain."

—

HOPE'S POV

I packed up for a visit to the hospital later this afternoon.

Unfortunately, Tyler will be absent because he had to bring Ashley to the doctors and have lunch with his sister.

I texted him the address of the hospital, just in case he could visit since I enlightened him about my plan. It might be dangerous and a little wild to have a big fight in a hospital, but I wanted to be the villain. Just to show Calvin Woodland how it felt to be the victim.

My lips shaped into a frown as I remembered how often Tyler was being dragged into situations I should face alone. After a long time of doing everything unchaperoned, I had lost the stupendous ability to put someone else before me. He deserves to make his own choice, even if I dreaded to lose his presence with me.

It is ridiculous how mere months can result in me trusting him more than any living person in the world. Absurd, but it happened nonetheless. Perhaps it was his patience, his infuriating ability to persuade, his understanding and his company that gives me a sense of home. For a moment, I felt that with Josh, from that comfortable embrace.

The small spark of happiness felt so new to me. It distracts me from my past. It was a feeling I could barely remember since it had been years since the last time when I was genuinely content with life.

I tucked a small but effective switchblade in my pocket, one I bring along only occasionally. I was fueled with resentment the last time I touched it. Hurting the ones that wounded me was my only path. That time Ian burnt the pictures I cherished the most.

I set off with confidence, getting a lift from around the neighbourhood to the hospital. I received another text this morning about my mother's state. She could be giving birth at any second.

The glacial air of the hospital greeted me and kissed my skin. A shiver travelled my spine. With every passing second, I wondered what life would be like after my baby brother is born. I sent a text to my mother's phone, informing her that I arrived at the hospital. Calvin invited me to meet him downstairs for a few minutes, causing confusion to settle. He should be beside my mother, giving her the support she needs.

My expression had written it all since he answered, "I told the nurses I had hemophobia." I wanted to ridicule him. That was a complete joke. Calvin did not have a fear of blood. He had once convinced my mother to perform murder on my father. A twinkle of hatred flashed in his face before it faded.

"How's school?" Calvin surprisingly started a conversation. "Spring break's almost ending, right?"

I smile, signifying that everything related to school is alright, though any assignments given for the holiday were yet to be done.

"How did you spend this break?" he asked, sounding sincerely solicitous. The hostility in his eyes vanished, and I wondered if the look was feigned from my imagination. However, I could see through him like crystalware. My father's voice rang in my head, 'None of his intentions are pleasant.'

"With friends perhaps?" he asked, and I nod again, not interested in having small talks with him. There was a long pause between us when we shared a gaze. I concealed the distasteful look I was yearning to give, while he drowned in an ocean of thoughts.

"Follow me," he said simply. Boldly, I trailed behind him without a second of hesitation as he casually led me into an empty patient's room, where he was undoubtedly prohibited from entering. The sharp tip of the knife regularly brushes my hand from inside my pocket, reminding me it was there whenever I needed it.