I was tempted to place a hand on my chest just to make sure my heart was still beating. His words hung in the air, each syllable piercing into my guilty conscience. The answer to his question remained at the tip of my tongue like brewing poison.

"No," I lied finally, making a conscious effort to not look at him. "Why would you...think that?" If he had been able to decipher the truth, there was every possibility that everyone else would too. And the thought of it seemed like a noose around my neck. Tightening as it became more and more suffocating. No way I could let anyone know. Not now that I had survived.

"Because...I guess I..." he trailed off and suddenly I felt very aware of his gaze on me. I had kinda hoped if I made him uncomfortable enough by staring, he would just leave the room. How long till my mom and dad got here, anyway?

He didn't finish his sentence and fell silent. I glanced up at him, looking at him properly for the first time since he had entered the room. It may just have been my drug-addled brains, but he looked different from what I remembered. He seemed to have grown muscle, cut his hair shorter. Although the rest of him, the slate grey eyes and the curly dark hair remained pretty much as I remembered.

I raised an eyebrow, yearning to know what had given my pathetic attempt to end myself away. "You guess what?"

I instantly regretted raising my volume as I felt a sharp pain in my throat. Where had it come from? Some pipe they had inserted?

"Nothing," he said finally, his eyes fixed on me in an intimidating, unwavering gaze. "I'm just-"

The sound of the door opening made him stop abruptly and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. Before I could ask him anything more, however, I heard multiple footsteps and soon after my heart sunk at the familiar voice calling from the narrow entry corridor.

"Aziel?" my mom rushed towards me as the door swung open, her eyes wide as she glanced at the surrounding machinery. "Aziel...what-?"

"What the hell happened?" my dad asked as he appeared from behind her, his eyes similarly wide. For a split second, I felt a sense of gratification at their concern. The sadistic pleasure soon turned to repulsion at myself.

"I fell," I repeated, glancing once at Evander to reiterate. "I'm okay now. Mostly."

My mom's lower lip trembled as she walked over to me and gently stroked my hair. "Oh, honey..."

"How was the...thing you guys were at?" I blamed the drugs for failing to recall which exact event my parents had been to. I just knew it was a big deal.

"Had to leave early," my dad said, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Oh," I felt a pang of guilt, knowing in my heart how mad both of them would be at me the moment that we were out of the hospital. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize," my mom lied. Even though paired with her soft touch I almost wanted to believe in her.

The door opened again and Miss Brown appeared with a thick, large envelope in her hand. Her eyes immediately widened in recognition as she rushed over to my mom and gripped her in a warm embrace. "Annie, thank you."

Miss Brown leaned back and smiled weakly at my mom before nodding at my dad and taking a step back. "Of course. I brought the medicines," she added, placing the brown packet on the massive bedside table near my feet. "The nurse will tell you when to take them," she said to me as I managed to nod at her. 

Should I feel thankful? How should I feel at all? I wasn't sure.

But I knew it was not as hollow. Not as empty.

"Please excuse us," she said, grabbing Evander's hand as she led him away. He glanced at me once, his expression unreadable before the door shut and a thick silence fell. I glued my eyes on my right leg poking from under the bedsheet. The suffocating silence almost made me wish that Evander and his aunt would return.

"Sweetie," my mom sighed and just by her tone, I knew what was coming next. Some sort of reprimanding. Some sort of taunt, perhaps. "You need to be more careful."

"Oh," I exhaled. Really? That was it? How come she wasn't reminding me what a nuisance I was? Or maybe she was waiting till the time I was discharged from the hospital to properly clamp down on me.

"I don't understand." My dad shook his head. "How damn clumsy do you have to be to take such a fall? And this will keep you out of school for like...a week? Two? God knows how that's going to affect your already questionable grades."

"Honey-" my mom said as I flinched at my dad's steadily rising voice. It was a good thing that my room was single occupancy, lest another patient was subjected to my dad's collateral rage.My dad opened his mouth to say something, yell more I was convinced. 

However he fell silent as his phone rang and he reached for his breast pocket, his eyes lighting up with recognition at the contact name. "Excuse," he said simply before leaving the room.

I let out a short sigh.

"Don't listen to him, sweetie," my mom said, gently patting my head. "You know how he is."

You bet I did.

She said something more, but I wasn't sure what as the drugs finally overtook me, lulling me into a dreamless, dark sleep. Just like the numbness I had desired to permanently slip into.

*

The next few days passed in a daze.I wasn't sure if it was the drugs I was having. I just remembered flashes of consciousness where I would force myself to eat whatever liquid abominaton I was allowed to. Although the disgusting taste made me simply want to stay hungry, which I did on the nights my mom wasn't there.

I was discharged in a few days, although my fucked up concept of time couldn't quite comprehend. Three days, I assumed.

I was aware of my dad appearing occasionally at the foot of my bed. Was it during the day? Or at night perhaps? Neither of us said anything, the previous distance had now bellowed into an empty chasm. If I still had all my senses, I would perhaps have been terrified.

I remember a lot of soreness throughout my body. Struggling to stand, struggling to walk. Heaving breathlessly. How had I only broken my arm? Each muscle in my body seemed to be ripped apart. 

And although it felt like I had been in blissful analgesia for ages, on the seventh day when almost half of the colourful pills stopped coming my way, I felt more awake than I ever wanted to be. The days and nights morphed into each other till I could distinguish time no more. The silver zenith separating the sky and ocean merging into an unforgiving warp. 

"Aziel," my mom said on the eighth day as I lay listlessly in my bed, scrolling through my phone. "Azil, Kevin called. You want to call him back?"

My stomach clenched uncomfortably. "Uh...no."

My mom was quiet, but I was very aware of her gaze fixed on me. "Mind me asking why? Isn't he your friend?" 

My stomach tightened even more. "I just...don't feel like it."

It was possible that he knew what had happened of course. My mom would've told my school the reason for my absence. I vaguely wondered what she had told them? An accident? An injury?

A part of me couldn't help but fantasise how different things would've gone if I had succeeded. Would my dad shed tears? Will all my friends come to see what was left of me then? Or would it be the way it always had been? I would disappear without a trace?

"Honey-"

"I'm a bit tired mom," I said, cutting her off immediately. "Goodnight."

I pulled the covers up to my face, repulsed by my sadistic thoughts, hiding under it and pretending to sleep. My mom however, stood still and I heard her footsteps moving closer to the bed instead of moving away from it. "Have dinner first, you can sleep after that."

"I'm not hungry," I answered promptly, my stomach turning at the thought of the bland food that consisted of my dinner.

"You need to take medicines after eating honey-"

"I'll take them later...whenever I eat," I lied, with no plans to eat at all. I tried to steady my breathing and put on a convincing act that I was asleep, however; it wasn't a good five-minutes later when she finally decided to leave. I sighed at the sound of her receding footsteps and removed the covers, glancing at the ceiling above.

Was I being a total douche by ignoring everyone? Should I just message Kevin instead of calling him? I could tell him my throat felt too sore to talk. That could work. 

I reached for my phone again, finally taking it off the 'do not disturb' mode as my phone was flooded with notifications from group chats I was, unfortunately, a part of. I went to Kevin's contact and saw the slew of messages.

Hey man you okay? 

Call me when you get the chance.

Mrs Pieterson told us you're in the hospital???? 

What the fuck happened? 

Can't reach your number.

Hey man...you're still mad about that..?

I sighed. Had my mom told him what had happened after he had called her instead? Maybe. Was I still mad at him for what had happened? Not really. His words hadn't made me angry, simply hollower still.

I texted back slowly, 'Hi, sorry. I'm gonna be okay. Just a little weak. On a shit tonne of meds.'

I was careful to ignore his second question, hoping he wouldn't ask it again. I gazed at my text for a few seconds, going over it again and again. What if he got so worried that he came over? A part of me was curious to know whether that would ever happen. Another part of me was horrified with the prospect of facing anyone at all. I decided to add in a line at the end. 

'Will see you in school next week.'

I sighed and threw the phone back on the mattress, gazing at the ceiling again. Now that the effect of the painkillers had stopped, I was craving for the blissful numbness. I would feel just as empty as I was right now, except I would be too intoxicated to think about it. And all I wanted was to just stop thinking. But I couldn't. Especially after seeing fucking Evander Holzgrefe.

I turned to lie on my stomach, although the action hurt my back slightly. I wasn't sure I was allowed to sleep that way, but I didn't care. Evan's face floated in front of my eyes. The strange depth in them when he had asked me that question. How had he figured it out? Did that also mean he knew what I had tried to do? Would he tell anyone? Worse of all, what would he think of me? 

That I was some poor little rich boy who was sick of being so privileged. A useless, worthless, hollow shell of a person who had nothing to give to this world. He had said that he was on some sort of internship. What degree did he have, anyway? Far as I remembered, it was related to psychology. Was that why he was here? It was possible that my mom would know. Thanks to her closeness with her therapist who also happened to be his aunt.

I sighed and buried my face in the pillow, my mind wandering into grisly scenarios where Evander was ratting me out to my parents. Perhaps it would be better if I just talked to him? Begged him not to tell anyone? Would he listen?

He had to and if he didn't, I would just deny it again and again till everyone, including me, simply forgot.

Dang. I didn't realise how late I was on this update. I'm sorry you guys. I have no excuse except that I've been slacking off lol XD I'll try to better and as always thanks for the patience ❤️