The Princess of the Moon

By RissaleWriter

8.1K 487 55

Never go out at night was a rule that she had been taught since birth. Never leave the house without telling... More

Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31

Chapter 4

452 29 1
By RissaleWriter

"Come on and let's go, Cil," I said and pulled her off of the ambulance after Damion was rolled off.

"Oh my God," Cillia muttered, clutching my arm as I followed them into the hospital.

I bit back a gasp as I felt a wave of pain coming off of everyone. My body shook a little as I tried to ignore the pain and a pounding headache, as images wanted to take over my brain.

A young girl about the age of ten was sleeping. Her face was pale, and her blonde hair hung limply around her face. Her eyes were partially closed, and a look of pain flashed on her face.

She was dying. She knew it, and everyone else knew it...

I blocked the pain, stopping the image that I saw in my mind. Regret filled my body because I knew of no way to help her at this point. The only thing left to do was make her comfortable and let her know that someone cared.

"Syn?" someone called my name. The voice was filled with concern, and it made me wonder how many times the person said it.

"Da? (Yes?)" I asked absentmindedly, switching to Romanian.

"Are you alright?" the person asked, touching my arm, bringing me from my stupor.

I blinked one time and again, trying to clear my vision. I saw that it was Matt, staring at me, concerned. I studied him and how his blonde hair was slicked back a little with sweat. "Nauseous," I replied, finally before looking around. "Where did they go?" I asked, not seeing the lift or the others. My heart pounded a little with fear as I thought that this meant that Damion might've died, and I wasn't there to help him. Idiot, I scold myself. No need to have a pity party.

A smile flickered on Matt's chiseled features, as I had an inner battle with myself. "He is fine," he said. "Barely alive, but that should be expected since he did suffer from a serious head wound."

I sighed a little in relief and nodded. "I hope that's good," I said, beating myself up because of the pity party.

Mat touched my arm, breaking me from the mental beating that I was giving myself. "Hey, don't beat yourself up," he said reassuringly. "You did suffer from shock and a hurt knee."

I snorted, not believing him. "Come on," I said, changing the subject. "With my luck, Cillia is already in Damion's room being a pain in the ass and making it so that they can't work on him."

Matt nodded his head and smiled. "Come on, then," he said,.leading me to where they had taken Damion a few minutes before.

***

Deeper into the hospital we went, the pain from everyone became more intense and was getting harder for me to ignore. Their sorrows and pain wanted to be felt, and most of them knew that they were dying. Some had given up while others were still trying to fight.

Matt tried to talk to me, but all I could hear was the sound of my ragged breathing.

Images of the injured people filled my mind, and it took all my willpower not to indulge in their pain, wanting to help.

My stomach turned a little, and I knew that I was going to be sick. "I need to go to a-a bathroom, quickly!" I exclaimed, interrupting Matt on some medical terms.

Matt turned to look at me, annoyed that I interrupted him before he saw that I was, in fact, looking a little green. He sucked in his breath before leading me quickly to the employee's bathroom. He opened the door, shoved me into it, and slammed the door shut.

I rushed to the toilet and barely had time to lift the cover before I threw up my lunch.

Tears streamed down my face as my body shook as I threw up again. Ragged sobs escaped my body as I cried, even though I haven't cried that much, not since my mother had passed away when I was around five.

"Syn?" someone asked, knocking on the door. "Can I come in?" His voice held so much pity that I didn't like it. I guess he was like that because he didn't know how to help me.

I shook my head weakly as I started to pull myself up, even though I knew he wouldn't be able to see me. My body shook when I walked to the sink and turned it on, hoping that the water would be able to help me relax. I splashed my face, loving the feeling of the cold water on my heated skin.

"Syn?" the male asked again. "Please, can I come in?"

"No, Matthew," I said. "I-I can't deal with anyone right now." I grabbed hold of the sink and took a deep breath. I closed my eyes and tried to calm my beating heart and ragged breathing. Water dripped from my face and into the sink, but I didn't care. All I cared about was trying to get my act together. I needed to stay sane.

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