I stir my coffee with the damp and flimsy stick provided in the hospital cafe. I shake in some extra cinnamon and chocolate powder. I'm going to be needing the sugar rush. I silently plead that Markus Woodley is a no-show, but when a rugged man with dark brown hair and circles under his eyes walks in looking around, his eyes pausing on me, I'm sure that he's coming.

He's handsome in a dishevelled and uncaring way, but he also looks like he's capable of murder. More specifically, mine. I'm mostly terrified, but also somewhat intrigued at why he wants to talk to me.

He walks up to the small shoddy table in the corner, where I sit. His heavy leather boots creak on the floor. 

"I'm guessing you're Bradley Monse." He says in a deep and husky voice.

I nod nervously and muster a frail smile. He takes a seat opposite me; his large build towering over mine. I want to hide underneath the table, but instinct tells me to face the loud music.

"I'm Markus." He puts his hand out for me to shake.

Unwillingly, I take it and his strong grip breaks all my fragile bones. He lets go, leaving me with a red and bloodshot aching hand. I quickly discard it under the table.

"How are you?" He asks loudly in the almost silent hospital cafe.

"Good." I mumble. "You?" I add out of politeness.

Then, I realise I just asked the brother of the girl I put it a coma how he was. Class act, Bradley.

"Good, thanks." He gives me a steely smile. "I take it you've seen her." He gulps before he adds her name. "Isla."

I smile and nod. Just smile and nod, Bradley. He won't murder you for almost murdering his sister, will he?

"You know she was a violinist." He tucks his long brown locks behind his ear. "She used to create beautiful melodies. When she crashed, she was on her way to a summer music school." He breaks his eye contact with me and looks down at the table.

"I always imagined her as a musical person." I find myself saying.

"She always used to be the first one dancing at the parties, spreading smiles." A similar smile is painted on Markus' face. 

I can imagine Isla dancing, smiling, laughing, being unafraid of being judged. The exact opposite of me.

"I wish I could meet her."

Why would you say that Bradley?

"Me too." Markus replies, looking back up at me. "I just want to see her smile again. Dimples and all." He laughs as if he can imagine the moment.

"I should go." I grab my jacket and begin leaving a tip on the table.

Markus nods, as a goodbye.

I turn to leave, but before I do. I turn. Markus looks up at me.

"Why aren't you angry?" I ask, without thinking.

Markus flashes me a confused look.

"With me. I almost killed your little sister." I add.

He chuckles lightly.

"Don't get me wrong kid. I'm furious." He's still laughing. "You just remind me a little of myself, that's all."

Then, before he can even attempt to chase after me with a weapon, I leave.

●●●

Here I am. Again. The heart monitor's beeping as usual. Her chest is lifting and falling. I don't know why I'm here. I'm going way past my curfew, but here I am staring at Isla Woodley.

I can imagine her a little better now. Her playing the violin, me sitting in the audience listening intently and astounded at her work. And to think, that I wouldn't even know her if I hadn't crashed into her. The thought is unbearable.

I sit beside her watching her. Like the creepiest man on Earth. But, it doesn't bother me.

I only notice it now, but she looks strikingly similar to her brother. Sharp feature, dimples, red lips. They're both very attractive. But, Isla has the upper hand. She has something Markus doesn't, a bright wide and goofy smile. Although, I've never seen it. I can just picture it.

"Day 10." I whisper to her. "I really wish you'd wake up." I pause to examine her beautiful face. "I'm so lonely and you're the only person that understands."

Then, I mock myself to talking to her. Pretending that she can hear me. I don't even know Isla Woodley. I've never spoken to her or seen her awake. I've just watched her, like a huge pervert, lying motionless in a bed.

I doubt she'd even want me here. She'd probably chase me with something and make me get out. I've torn her life from her. Her dreams, I've ripped to shreds. Yet, here I am and I keep coming. Maybe, it's the loneliness kicking in.

After sitting by her side while the bright sun has sunken, I leave the hospital and Isla's ward.

I keep replaying a certain moment in my head. She's playing the violin, smiling. Suddenly, she stops and begins dancing to the romantic music like a prima ballerina and pulls me up onto the stage with her. It's completely untrue, but by the time I arrive at my front porch, the memory is as good as real. Isla is engrained in my head and I can't get her out of there.

●●●

"Where have you been?" Mum asks, just getting off the phone.

"The hospital." I reply, putting away my bag.

She sighs and looks back down at the phone.

"That was Jared's parents." She says, picking at the nail polish her fingernails. It's her nervous habit.

"What did they want?" I ask with curiosity. "What are they inviting us to another dinner party?" I remark, dryly and doing multiple eye rolls.

Mum looks at me before taking a sip from the wine glass in her hand.

"Actually that's exactly what they're doing."

A dinner party? Jared and I aren't exactly best friends forever anymore.

"Why?" I ask Mum.

"I have no effin' clue, Bradley."