Ever Ever - chapter two

NNnerght I went through so much trouble with this chapter. -__- My computer died with I was nearly done and I hadn't saved so I was terribly afaid I had lost it. Luckily, I managed to get half of it back, though I had to re-write the other half. Thats why the ending is a bit rushed, so I might go back and re-write it later. Enjoy!

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Today I looked back at what I have written so far. Somehow the words I have down seem flat. I bet Mr. B could have done a better job. Hell, even Mars could have done a better job (the boy, not the planet). As I read it also occurred to me how stupid I was back then. Of course, Mr. B posed no threat, but what if he had been some creepy slave trader guy? Or a rapist? Or a terrorist bomber looking for hostages (my parents were pretty important)?

These thoughts did race through my head as Mr. B snuck me out of the hospital. It was so disgustingly easy I almost wonder if he had bribed some of the nurses to keep away for awhile. All he had to do was fiddle with the window for a moment, and the glass popped right out. Don’t ask me how he did it – I’ve asked him hundreds of times and to this day I still do not know. However no alarm went off, no doctors burst in. I was dumbfounded.

“I don’t think you’re allowed to do that,” I said lamely, my mind struck by the casual way he dumped the glass out the window. He wiped off his suit and straightened it slightly then turned to me.

“Come on then,” with an impatient look at his watch he gave me an encouraging nod, “You better pull that IV out.” To my dismay I saw that a long needle was stuck in my arm (ew). I’ll spare you the details. I don’t want my readers puking on this book. Basically, with some disgusting squishing noises and a long embarrassingly girly squeal, I was disconnected from the IV. Mr. B gave me a short applause, then jerked his head towards the window. I stepped shakily off the hospital bed, the old springs creaking so loud I feared someone would hear. No one did, and I relaxed ever so slightly.

Stepping forward to stand behind Mr. B I caught a wiff of his cologne. To my surprise, I recognized it. It was the same sickly concoction that my father wore, and I happen to know that it is ridiculously expensive. Suspicions rose inside me – how could a man as disarrayed as Mr. B able to afford such a luxury? I was about to voice my question, when, as if sense my skeptism, he held up a hand for silence.

“Coast is clear,” he said seriously, looking out the window like a James Bond wannabe. His boyish grin was still pasted on his face, though his eyes were narrowed playfully as they glared across the parking lot. I stood a foot away, simply staring at this mad man, “Let’s go…”

Giving thanks that I was placed in a room on the bottom floor, I walked over to the now glassless window. Hesitating for a moment, I asked myself what the hell I was doing. I was about to run away from home (after a suicide attempt, no less) to go on an “adventure” with a man who is not only decades older then me, but also a complete stranger.

Eh. What did I have to lose, right?

So out the window I went, the prickly bushes below reminding me that I was without shoes or proper clothes. The sappy branches stuck to my bare legs and needles jabbed into the sole of my foot like I had sat on it too long and it had fallen asleep.

“Dandy. Just dandy,” I muttered ungratefully before Mr. B grabbed my shoulder roughly.

“Hurry up now, my dear, I think our escape has been noticed,” Sure enough, as he rushed me through the parking lot I could hear shouts rising from behind. A twirl of adrenaline curled up from inside me as I glanced back with unprecedented excitement.

“Good thing I parked nearby by, eh?” Mr. B said joyfully, as if they were going on a leisurely shopping trip. To my horror, I glanced up to see a large van waiting in the distance. It looked old and rusted an 80’s van with a rounded top and sad looking tinted window. Again, thoughts of a slave trade or insane terrorist spiraled through my mind. I was about to kick this crazy guy so hard his grandchildren would feel it, then race back to the hospital like an Olympic sprinter. I’m unbelievable glad I didn’t. When I think of all I had missed out on, I physically shudder.

What stopped me was a head. A female head, to be precise. African American and sporting crazy braids that wound up her head, she flung the van door open and gave Mr. B a glare so terrible even I felt the chill.

“Mr. B, would you be so kind as to tell Johnny that I think he can take his stupid “theories” and shove them up his-“

“Thank you, Veronica, I get the point,” Mr. B laughed as he rushed me to the van, “Oh my, security is tight around here.” He then murmured, glancing behind him to view the multiple security guards winding their way between hummers and four-door sedans alike.

“In you go, my dear,” with a gentle shove I found myself being shepherded into the vehicle, landing face first in a dusty box filled with books of all kinds. I had only a second to register this before a pair of hands snagged my hospital gown and yanked me back, not near as gently as Mr. B. The sound of the door shutting and the van starting growled into the air (damn that man was fast). With a roar the engine snarled forward, lurching the metal animal into action. It weaved spasmodically in between cars, as if it had a mind of its own (and that mind was a terrible driver). I suppressed a scream as we turned on two wheels for a moment, my stomach in my throat. I couldn’t see what was happening, between the tinted windows and the speed at which we were traveling. It appeared that we had exited the hospital parking lot and were now navigating through busy city streets.

“Oh,” I murmured weakly as we pulled out onto the freeway, giving thanks to whomever is Up There that our town founders built the hospital close to the exit.

“Looks like you snagged us some fresh meat, eh boss?” came a drawling voice, equipped with an accent I couldn’t place at that second. I jerked my head up in surprise, astonished to find that in addition to the girl I had seen earlier, two others were sprawled out over the fuzzy seats.

I could tell who had spoken immediately. He had an appearance that matched his voice. His hair was spiked and dyed bright neon green, a shade I had thought not possible to torture your hair with. Similarly colored earrings curled up his ear (I counted six before I looked away) and a joking smirk played on his face. His thumbs flew over a handheld video game, though he glanced up for a second to give me a friendly smile that contrasted immensely with his appearance.

“Play nice, Jonathan,” Mr. B chastened. Jonathan twitched, no doubt from the use of his full name, much like I had.

“It’s Johnny,” he muttered, going back to his game, his voice illustrating that the fight over nickname rights had been lost long ago.

“We just ignore him,” the first girl said aloofly, though it was apparent she was teasing. Veronica was her name, though I was pretty sure that she wouldn’t stand being called that by anyone but Mr. B. If I could describe her in one word it would be…scary. Now, don’t get me wrong, she’s the best friend a girl could ask for. I would advise sticking her in a room with many small children for long, but she tries. However when I first met her I was scared out of my wits. It wasn’t that she was ‘goth’ scary or physco scary – she simply had that aura that made people automatically fear. The way she sat radiated strength, and her eyes seemed to glow with power. For some reason the first thing I could think of when I looked at her was a jaguar. A big, hungry jaguar.

“I’m Vee,” Veronica offered, handing out a hand to shake. I shyly did so. Her grip was predictably strong, yet comforting. The contact made me notice how clammy my hands had been. I tried to wipe them inconspicuously on my gown, but she noticed.

“Hey, don’t feel bad,” she said, patting my shoulder roughly, though that wasn’t the intent, “You should have seen me when I first joined this circus. I was freaked.” Johnny raised his head to glare at her.

“B.S,” he stated, “You gave me a black eye the first day.”

“Exactly,” Vee nodded, as if this proved her point. Johnny shot something back and they began to bicker, so I tuned out. It was only then I noticed Mars. The boy was curled up in the seat next to Johnny (just a row of seats in front of Vee and I), his shoulders hunched over a comic book. A small pair of headphones covered his ears, partly hidden by a mop of soft looking dark red hair. His wire rimmed glasses slipped down on his nose, and he was noticeably shaky. Teenage hormones obviously plagued this boy, for his face hosted a smatter of acne scars and blemishes. Green eyes scanned the page, rarely blinking, seemingly enthralled.

“That’s Mars,” a soft whisper blew into my ear. I jumped and gave a small squeak, turning to see Vee leaning in towards me. She talked quietly, as if afraid to be overheard, though Mars was obviously deaf with his music playing.

“We don’t know too much about him. He’s a nice kid and all…” Vee shrugged, “He was the first, so says Johnny. The first one Mr. B picked up I mean. It went Mars, Johnny, me and now you. He’s kind of weird though, and even Mr. B calls him Mars. How he got ‘em to do that, I have no clue…”

“We call him Mars because of his red hair and craterous face,” Johnny teased, ruffling Mars’s hair affectionately, snatching the comic book out of his hand. I jumped once again (why am I so damn jumpy?) when Mars spoke, spouting something in Spanish I couldn’t understand. It was obviously a swear word, for Johnny responded with a flick of his middle finger.

“Language, Mars!” Mr. B scolded, though he gave Johnny a hard glare in the rearview mirror. Johnny raised his hands in an act of innocence, provoking an eye roll from Vee. I felt a little lost, like I had stumbled into a family reunion I didn’t belong in. It sure didn’t help I was still dressed in my thin hospital gown, without even a bra. I shuddered to think what my face looked like, what with my being unconscious for three days. Then there was the fact that I had not peed in three days either…

“Oh, and don’t worry about your clothes, Marbella,” Mr. B called back, again giving me the sensation that he could see inside my head, “We’ll get you something proper soon.” Vee turned to face me, as did Johnny and Mars, who had taken off his headphones to listen. Much to my horror, a blush crept onto my face. I was not used to such attention from people, let alone complete strangers who I met in a van.

“Marbella, eh?” Vee said, apparently the talker of the bunch, “That’s a pretty name.”

“Er, you can call me Ella,” I said, with a little gesture that was half a wave, half a this-is-what-I-got-take-it-or-leave-it motion. Johnny frowned.

“Aw come on, you can do better then that,” he urged. I was stunned into silence for a moment as I noticed how electric his blue eyes were, then gained control of myself.

“It’s my nickname,” I said, a little annoyed it wasn’t good enough for him.

“You can’t pick your own nickname! It doesn’t work that-“

“All right gang!” Mr. B’s excited voice boomed from the front seat, “Last stop!”

The van squealed into a hair-raising turn, the world seeming to whirl around it. It thumped to a stop, and I sat there shaking, taking off guard by the sudden stunt. The other three passengers seemed unaffected, as calm as if taking a leisurely ride in a Mercedes.

“Be right back,” Our driver stepped out of the van, pausing to straighten out his suit. He then turned and walked away, leaving the car door open and an annoying dinging in the air. I peeked out the winding, trying to make out where we were through the black glass. I should have been expecting it, but for some reason it surprised me when I saw we were at yet another hospital. Johnny hopped out of his seat coming to squat near me and looked out the window as well. An impish smile played on his face as if he were winning some sort of difficult game.

“Three guesses why we’re here.”