Being Fearless

4

Ugh fuck. Holy hell I feel like someone drug my through hell then beat my with a mallet.

It's so.....dark. Am I in hell? I mean it makes sense. Can I lift my arm? I tried to lift my arm but it just wouldn't budge. I went to open my eyes but I was just met by darkness. Scanning my eyes around the dark room I saw machines and dim lights everywhere. I looked down and saw a tube in my mouth no doubt helping me breathe. Trying to figure out why I couldn't lift my arms, I looked down to see my hand intertwined with someone's hand. They had rings and painted black nails where the paint was chipping away. Following the arm to the body, what I saw shocked me.

I saw the same guy from the race track holding my hand passed out in a chair. I internally groaned.

Looking back at my hand held by his, I willed it to move and it did. I was still weak but I had enough energy to pinch his hand.

My eyes shot back to him right as he jolted away looking panicked. His eyes met mine and he looked at me like a little kid waiting for candy. If I was anyone else I would think it was adorable but, it just made me wanna hurl.

I rolled my eyes as he called for a doctor. While we were waiting for a doctor he started stroking my hand with his thumb but I pulled it back. He looked at me sad but understanding and recoiled his hand.

The doctor walked in with a clipboard in his hand and glasses on his head.

"I see you are awake." He said putting his glasses on his face and flipping through some papers.

Obviously.

"Let me take this out of your mouth so you can speak." He pulled the tape off of my face then gently pulled the tube out of my mouth making the dryness in my mouth known.

"W-ater" I rasped out in an almost non existing voice.

"Oh right, sorry." He handed me cup of water with a straw and I guzzled it as fast as I could.

"Alright I just have some questions for you." I nodded my head in understanding.

"Alright. What's your name?"

"Get out." I said looking at the tattooed dude.

"But I saved your life." He said with his eye brows creased in confusion.

"You should of just let me die." I said with a shrug. His expression dropped into one of sadness.

"Don't say that." His deep voice that slightly had an accent, which I didn't know from where, was now soft and quiet laced with sadness.

"I say whatever I want and do whatever I want. You should have left me to die. Just get out for fucks sake." I said quite sternly to him. His jaw ticked with anger before he suddenly stood up, his hands clenching beside him.

"You know what? Fuck you. I was trying to help you."

"I never asked you to help, so bye bye. Shoo." I waved him off and he stormed out of the room slamming the door.

The doctor cleared his throat from my other side.

"Elliot Stevens." I replied to his earlier question.

"You didn't have to be mean to Mr. Frost, he stayed here all night and refused to leave." The doctor pointed out.

"Awe. That touched my cold hard heart." I said pretending to care.

"You still could of been nicer to him." The doctor said pointing his pen at me.

"He will be back in here in a few minutes, don't worry. Next question."