Song: The Neighbourhood - Softcore (slowed + reverb)
~
Blaring bright lights forced themselves into the girls eyes as she slowly opened them. Everything was white and the pain in her head was banging against her temple.
She wanted the lights off because they were making it worse.
She could hear the beeping of a machine next to her and slowly turned her head, wincing slightly at the pain that followed from the sudden movement.
She wanted to cry and scream and ask anybody why she was in pain, surrounded by lights too bright and by the clogging smell of strong bleach and laundry detergent that smelled off and wafted through her nose.
She was shivering, but the sweat that coated her skin felt like another suffocating layer of heat against her body.
She turned her head to the other side and spotted another bed with identical machines to hers that stood on one side, and the bright white sheets rumpled as a figure lay stock still.
It was a boy.
She suddenly wanted to cry for this boy. He probably didn't know where he was or what had happened to him, the same as her.
His hair was black and his finger was attached to a thick clip. She lifted her own hand and came to the realisation that there was an identical clip on her own finger.
She turned back to the boy, wondering who he was and what had happened to him.
Was he dead? He wasn't moving, and there was a long loud beep sounding through the room now, making the blood pump in her ears, attempting to block out the shrill noise.
She wanted to get out of here, go back home, but a black void bloomed up inside her head, making her heart race and her hands shake.
Where was she?
Just then, a flurry of nurses covered in blue scrubs the shade of the sky, ran into the room and crowded around the boy. The girl noticed one of the nurses holding a pair of blocks which she then placed on the boys chest.
She screamed when he jolted against the bed, but no sound came out as the darkness gripped her tender mind and pulled her into unconsciousness.
~
Mia
I feel sick.
My bones are fragile in my body as I slump against the sofa, resting my head against the soft cushions that feel like clouds.
I would happily drift off into them if I could, but the pain in my lower abdomen distracts me from any peace that could relieve me at this moment.
I small whimper leaves my mouth as I clutch my stomach to try and relieve the pain, putting as much pressure as I can, but my arms don't have the strength to hold myself, and fall beside me in a heap.
I close my eyes and try to think of something else other than the throbbing and sharp stabs of pain, figuring that if I stood up and tried to make myself a hot water bottle, I would probably feel sick all over the floor, and I'm pretty sure Rocco wouldn't be the one to clean up after me which meant that I'd have to clean me mess which would undoubtedly make me feel worse.
I shove the thought away, feeling a sourness creep up into my throat.
This is the worst.
I have no idea where Zeus is, and after some frantic shouts walking around the house, I had felt myself grow dizzy from my own voice.
Now I'm here, the house silent around me, filled with my struggling breaths and the sound of rain pelting against the windows.
I love this weather, the sight of the grey clouds blanketing the sky. It makes me feel cosy and despite the chill in the air brought on by occasional whips of the wind, blankets and a movie fit perfectly into the atmosphere.
Unfortunately, I can't move and I'm feeling way to horrible to get up and make myself cosy.
I shiver, and goosebumps rise along my bare arms as I watch the pellets of rain intensify, the room taking on a cloudy glow, growing darker.
Rocco left for work after at around three pm after spending the day in his office. I swear to God I have no idea what the hell he does in there all the time, and I always catch myself from knocking on it to see what he's up to.
It's been four hours and I've been bored out of my head. I really need a job if I want to sort out my mess of a life, and especially if I want to get out of here.
The thought makes me scrunch up my nose is displeasure.
Leaving this comfort despite the fact that I never wanted it in the first place, being lonely again? At least I have someone who doesn't shout in my ear about my annoying presence, even if he avoids me most of the day.
The rare moments that we are together, though, make me feel all tingly and shit, and I'm really starting to think that it isn't so good. What with us hardly knowing each other and his clear distaste for anything remotely warm felt and happy.
What I do know, though, is that he's never really said a mean word to me, apart from calling my dog a 'bitch', and he's always there to defend me when things aren't always in my favour.
Like the other night.
The thought of it makes my heart clench in a feeling of gratitude and... something else that makes me burn up.
I still haven't asked Rocco about my brothers because, frankly, I don't feel as much sadness than I thought I would. Yes, I did want to know if they were alive and yes, I was worried like hell because at the end of the day they're my brothers. My blood. I would never wish them harm, no matter how much they wished it upon me.
I'm mostly confused and hurt at the fact that I have none of my family to stick by my side and stay with me.
I want to just let out all the tears that have threatened to burst since day one, when my mother first left and my father started to aim his agitation and anger towards me. He never put up his hand against me, but it always felt like it.
Why did I have to be the one who felt so lost and alone? I never understood why he hated me, and when my mother left, my father would insult my ability to be a normal child. Whatever his definition of 'normal' was with his unreachable expectations and bad parenting.
I faintly hear the doors of the elevators open and close, and a set of soft footsteps walking around, but I don't care about anything right now, too lost in my memories and thoughts.
Maybe if an intruder came in, they could finally relieve me from my loneliness, even in this new 'life' that I thought I had a chance in. I will admit that it's a reprieve to not have to worry about my fathers words, but I still feel the same aching depth inside me, like there's something missing and I need to fill it.
A faint ringing sound, like the sound of a flat line, crowds my head. I look around to try to discern where it's coming from, but after a moment, when it stops, I resolve that I just imagined it.
Maybe I'm going crazy.
The pain in my lower abdomen is still thrumming against my skin, and I faintly register someone walking into the lounge and calling my name. "Mia?" It's a question and a hazy sound, but I don't answer it because the nausea is still trying to climb it's way up my throat and I'm afraid that if I speak I will actually throw up.
The storm clouds have darkened the room even more, and I hear the person walk away from me, a dim light flickering on somewhere in the room, illuminating the shadows against the windows and the black image of me in the TV screen.
Those familiar hazel eyes meet mine as Rocco comes to stand in front of me, an odd look on his face. He's clutching his, as always, black blazer in his hand and his top button is open, allowing me a glimpse of the tattoo's curling against his collarbones.
His eyes narrow as he takes me in, and he seems to speak again but I don't hear him.
That flat line beeping in my ears has come back again and the pain in my abdomen is intensifying.
As if I'm on automatic, I clutch my stomach again and wince, needing relief from this torturous pain that's almost consuming me.
The beeping is ringing hard in my head now, and I feel a tear slip from my left eye as my eyes plead with the hazel ones in front of me.
He's dropped his blazer on the sofa next to me now and is bending down in front of me, a look of what seems like concern on his face.
He's still speaking, his soft, plump lips moving, but I still don't hear him.
I try to tell him that, but i close my mouth instantly, feeling the bile creep up my throat.
My eyes widen in alarm and he seems to understand because he says something which looks like a 'fuck' and then grips my bicep, pulling me towards him and picking me up with an ease that would make me melt if I wasn't so lost in the pain, nausea and the loud beeping in my head that's now threatening to black me out.
I faintly feel myself moving, the heat from Rocco's body against mine and his smell of burnt musk, mint and a tinge of smoke envelops my senses, calming the intensity of the beeping, drowning it out completely, relieving the pressure in my head.
I let out a sigh in relief, but instantly regret it as I feel the sickness churn my stomach and my body lurches forward in an attempt to keep the contents of my stomach in.
A bright light makes me close my eyes, and then I'm being lowered down and my vision clears to take in the toilet in front of me.
A firm hand on the back of my neck is the last thing that that I feel before I vomit into the toilet, the sour metallic taste burning my mouth and my throat as I hunch forward, my hair spilling around me.
Another hand moves and gathers it all up, pulling it away from my face as I heave a breath, my hands clutching the pristine toilet seat in an attempt to ground me.
Again, I move forward as the I feel sick again, and the hand at my neck moves down to rub soothing circles on my back, massaging the shaking muscles and my hunched shoulders.
When I think that my stomach is finally empty, I register the wetness on my cheeks, hot tears flowing down my face, the salty taste on my parched lips.
The stinging and roughness in my throat is still there as I move away from the toilet seat and slump down onto my knees on the floor of the bathroom, the cold tiles under my hands offering a sense of calmness from the heat of my body.
Sobs are wracking my body now, and I can't seem to stop, even when the same hand comes up to my back again and continues to rub slow circles against the sweat soaked t-shirt.
A hand is still holding my hair up, and I feebly wipe at my mouth, trying to rub away the taste of vomit from my mouth.
Tears are streaming fast against my cheeks, and I feel the pain in my abdomen flare up again, making me crouch forward and tighten my arms around my stomach.
It hurts so bad, and I just want to get rid of it.
I want to die.
A movement makes me turn my head, and I feel my hair fall back against my sweaty neck, the warmth of Rocco's hands leaving my back as he stands up.
But a second later, he gently takes a hold of my arm again and pulls me up.
My legs shake in weakness, and the intensity in my abdomen increases tenfold, making my sobs turn into a whimper as a finger comes up beneath my chin and tilts it so I'm looking into those eyes again.
Hazel.
Dark.
Terrifying and dangerous.
But soft as they look into mine, void of all the coldness that usually wraps around them.
He's scanning my face and my body, his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw clenched.
Then he speaks, and this time I can hear his low tone, the roughness calming me.
"You're okay, cherry. Let's get you showered up." He tells me with a firm voice, and I absently nod my head once, wanting to rid of all this sweat and pain.
so i've been reading through some of the last few chapters of HATBBC again, and oh my gosh i miss it so much. the memory of writing it and the thrill i got when falling in love with eliza and jonas will never leave. hopefully, you'll all see them soon.
i'm sorry about my random posting schedule, but i've been a bit busy lately, and school is coming up so it might change permanently. i need to figure out certain day's that i'll be posting, but for now here you go.
tell me your thoughts.
also, it's probably clear, but mia has other issues that havn't been uncovered yet and i will hopefully start getting into it more over the next few chapters.
anyway thank you so much for reading, i love you.