Remember me || Patrick Stump

Chapter Six

After I finally got my nose to stop bleeding, I looked at myself in the mirror, and started to cry again.
I came this close to doing something I wanted, this close to forgetting about that night. And this is how far I got?
My cries turned into loud sobs, and I wasn't surprised when my sister Cara walked into the bathroom.
"Annabel.. What happened?"
Just tell her, I told myself.
Tell her about brendon.
Cara stood there, in shock, her frail body leaning toward me.
Well say something! I pleaded to myself.
"I hit my nose." I lied.
"C'mon. I think it's broken."
She pulled her car lets put of her abnormally large sweatshirt, and headed to the car.
She didn't even bother to ask how it's happened, and she didn't even bother asking why I was crying so hard, or why I was trembling. She could tell already by the way I was, that I was hiding something. And she of all people knew, that it might be best to remain hidden.
Honestly, this felt like the first time in forever, that my sister actually cared.
After her diagnosis, she'd become more angry at the world, more angry at herself. Every little thing seemed to annoy her, even the help of another. That's why getting her into therapy was so hard. She was denying her diagnosis. She was denying the curability.
It was like she didn't want to help herself. Or maybe she just didn't know how.
-----------------
After the doctor had told is I hadn't broken it, just given it a little bump, she asked Cara outside to sign some papers. This was the perfect time to check my phone, or make any needed calls.
Once I turned it on, my phone overflowed with texts, and missed calls from patrick.
Obviously he was worried, and obviously I was a complete idiot. Back at his house, I was only thinking about myself, not him. He must be devastated.
Most of the text messages sent were either him saying sorry or him asking what exactly he'd fine to make me mad at him.
But that wasn't the case at all.
I decided to call him, since explaining things over text wouldn't do much of anything.
Patrick ir firstly answered the phone, with the words I loathed to hear.
"Annabel I'm so s-"
"You don't need to be," I cut him off.
"It wasn't you I was mad at.."
"Than who were you mad at?"
I felt flustered, and I could hear the impatient ness boiling in his voice. I didn't blame him for being mad. He had every right to be.
"Is this about this about the kiss?" I should've Ben expecting this. Out of everything, I knew he'd blame this on himself.
"No of course it-"
"Because it didn't mean anything. I as just in the moment.."
Patrick's words stopped me clear in thought.
It didn't mean anything.
"We didn't even kiss." I said said with a cold voice,
"And I have to go. The doctors are waiting."
"Wait doctors? Are you o-"
But I hung up the phone. I knew I shouldn't be mad, but something in his words triggered me.
Suddenly, Cara walked into the room with a stack of papers.
"You know," she said, her annoyed attitude back. At least something was normal today.
"For a hospital, there's not much fucking hostility."
I smiled at this, and watched as she looked for a pen in her purse.
Suddenly I saw cara pull something strange out of her purse.
It was a tiny plant, secured with a plastic case.
"What's that?" I asked.
Cara stopped digging through her purse and pulled out the plant so I could see the whole thing.
"This? Oh. It's this stupid experiment I have to do for therapy. You plant the herbs, and then watch them grow. So far they're not fucking growing, so I don't know what they expect me to do.
I looked at the empty pot again, and thought about the seeds planted inside.
They had the power to come out of the soil, to grow, and express themselves. But they stayed there, unmoving, I changing in the damp soil.
They were slot like me. Too scared, too scarred to come out of hiding.