Christian's POV
I had just chosen to ignore a clear lie that this boy, who sounded like my savior, had just told me, and decided to try and clear my head so that I could better understand my situation, when a small woman with an intimidating presence entered the room with deathly familiar two adults.
My parents.
I was here, in what seems like a medical setting, with some kind of wire and thin tubes wrapped and attached to me, lacking in blood and dazed. There were two strange people in the room currently, but without a doubt, more knew of my situation.
I had gotten myself noticed in a compromising situation, they're going to question my parents about it and then, if they care enough, they're going to have to lie.
Lying is a sin. I'm going to make them sin.
I'm in trouble.
I'm in so much trouble.
I was terrified, I instantly assumed position. Look at the ground so no one can see my eyes, I don't think I'm in the right mind tom actively mask my emotions from them. Mask on for the rest of my body though.
"Christian!" My mother assumed her role as the concerned and worried parent as she ran to my side. She tilted my head up from my chin so that I was facing her as she 'examined my appearance' for God knows what reason.
"Darling are you okay? Where were you?" She asked as her eyes discreetly sent me the true message, she was angry. She didn't care, in fact she knew exactly where I was, she was the one to leave me there. Her real question was, "why would you draw so much attention to yourself, why can't you just die quietly if you want to die so damn much?"
I am not exaggerating, she has literally asked me this.
The woman that had brought them to me explained the situation, all the while my gaze had reverted back to the ground as my mother held my hand and my father remained at the door, watching.
By the time the explanation was completed, my mother had a death grip on my hand, it told me how she felt about the situation. Her anger had increased. Although, my gaze glanced at my suffocating hand that had began to hurt more than it did before, it was on the arm that was wounded, my gaze still remain on the ground for the entirety of the discussion. Only flicking up to glance at my father's expressionless face once.
That boy... I think his name was Jason, he stood to the side watching the scene before him silently. Though, I'm not sure any body even noticed his presence.
I had tuned out the discussion when I noticed my mother release my hand and move away from my bedside. That's when I tuned back in to the discussion, curious of the sudden development.
"Is there any other way that you could treat him? I can't give him any blood right now, I'm on medication." It was my mother's voice that spoke, my eyes were still directed to the ground, so I could only tell who was speaking due to their voices.
She wasn't lying this time though, she was on 'medication'. DIY anti-depressants, also known as alcohol and marijuana. She was sober now though.
"I'm not sure, but if you could step into the office for me whilst I call the main medic, we can see if he can answer that for you."
They all left the room as I watched their feet walk out. All but one. Jason.
Once the door shut I allowed myself to look up once more. I turned to look at him, but he was already staring. He had an unidentifiable expression on his face as he examined my being from afar shamelessly, before shooting me a small, awkward smile, turning on his heels and leaving the room.
Leaving me alone, still slightly dazed and fatigued, in pure solitude.
***********************
I was in that room, alone with my thoughts for what felt like forever, as I slightly dreaded what would happen when we returned to the cabin.
When they came back to the room, without Jason, I was administered iron supplements and was kept on the oxygen and IV, apparently it was supposed to last until my mother's blood was clean or my father's blood test results got back. It was to tell if he would be a compatible donor or not.
Despite how hard I fought it, the drowsiness got to me by the time the medic had left the medical room. I wounded up falling asleep in the presence of my parents who were already enraged by my recent actions.
I think its safe to say, I thank God for the surveillance cameras in that are possibly in this room. Because I couldn't even imagine what would even hold them back from punishing my behaviour other than the watchful eyes of others.
***********************
I woke up to the eyes of my furious father watching me from the other side of the room, he had tubes that were similar to the tubes that were attached to my unwounded arm. The only difference being that the tubes on my arms fed liquid into me, whilst the tubes on my father's arm took blood from him and inputted it into a bag that resembled a large sachet. I'm not sure what they're called.
The fact that my father was in that position suggested to me that his blood type most likely turned out to be a match.
This meant that I was going to be able to get back to the cabin and spend less time in the medical room than was originally thought.
I'm almost positive I know why he's giving me his blood, and I know its not because of 'love'.
My eyes scanned the room in search of my mother who was nowhere to be seen. The only people who were in the room were the medic who's name tag read 'Will', and my father.
My eyes made its way back to my father's figure as he continued to watched me with his enraged eyes and expressionless face.
The anger in his eyes incited some anxiety within me as I mustered up the courage to speak.
"Um...Pa- Father?" My fear shone through my tone despite all the effort I put into attempting to mask it.
My father simply grunted in reply.
"Where is Mother?"
The emotion in my father's eyes changed from pure anger to a mixture of anger and annoyance, as if the question that I had asked him was so idiotic that I may have just asked it to annoy him.
I get this look at any question I ask, I usually get a slap upside the back of my head or the lash of a cable or belt along with said look, but we had company this time, so I was safe.
He replied in a monotone voice, void of all emotion, "she's in bed," he paused to look at me before he deadpanned "it's past 4am."
So that's an entire day gone...
The medic had finished collecting my father's blood and had gotten up and left a few minutes after my father had finished speaking.
We were alone. The silence that ensued was deafening.
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