: I'm adding songs to the remaining chapters, if you want to listen & read, just swipe above!

p.s./ the song makes this chapter reallllly sad

"Violet"

"Violet!"

"Violet— wake up!"

I stir slowly, rubbing my eyes gently, and pulling the duvet closer to my face.

"Baby, please," I hear the soft, pleading voice of Charlie.

He sounds raw— broken.

I open my eyes slowly— adjusting to the fluorescent light in the room.

His eyes are red, puffy, and wet— had he been crying?

My tired eyes fall atop the alarm clock on the nightstand; 3:00 AM.

"Charlie?"

His face was unreadable.

It was as if he held my life in the palm of his hands, and if he told me what he needed to, he'd have to watch it shatter.

It was a strange look, as though he was the only one suited to tell me whatever it was, but also, the one who would hate to do it the most.

As I stare at the face sadder than any other I've seen, I had the most gut-wrenching feeling. Like the drop on a rollercoaster— minus the thrill. Like you're on the edge of your seat, waiting to hear news, and you just know it's bad— you can feel it in your gut— in your heart.

And It was bad— I could sense it.

"Charlie," I say again, my voice hoarse and worrisome, "please."

"It's Neil."

I knew it.

I wasn't entirely sure what it was that I had known— but I knew it. I knew Neil was troubled the last moment I saw him. The moment his father dragged him away from his first—and seemingly final—moment of sheer and utter happiness.

I told him I didn't think there was a key to happiness— but he found it onstage.

And his father ripped it away just as fast.

My heart thudded loudly in my chest.

What had his father done to him? Had he shipped him off to some military-style-boarding-school early? Had he withdrawn him from Welton already? From us?

It was a thought that I simply couldn't bare.

"Violet, baby, listen to me," Charlie spoke again, in a gentler tone than I had ever heard before. Like I was glass and the slightest vocal inflection would shatter me. His eyes bore into mine intently, commanding my complete attention.

It was as if his eyes were silently trying to apologize to me— for what though?— I'm not sure. But it only made me increasingly anxious.

"Neil's in the hospital. He tried to— he tried to— he—" Charlie spoke the words again and again— but he just couldn't get them out. And with each passing try, his voice became weaker and weaker.

A gasp fell from my mouth. Hospital?

Had he tried to— no.

No.

No, he would never— could never. It was Neil for God's sakes. The strongest of us all. The most positive of us all. The—the, Neil...

I could tell Charlie was trying to be strong for my sake. His eyes were so full of tears, the second he blinked they would come streaming down his face.

But he must have been mistaken. It's Neil after all..

"What are you doing," he asks, concern flooding his tired eyes, as I fling the duvet aggressively off my body, as though it were scorching hot.

"I'm going to see Neil, show you that everything's alright."

Charlie sighs loudly, rubbing his hand over his face, certainly wiping some stray tears in the process.

"Violet."

I ignore his broken tone, quickly throwing on the first items of clothing I see in my closet.

I grab my boots, not even bothering to slip them on, as I hurriedly head out of my room— Charlie following closely behind.

We arrive at the hospital. I hated it already— it was stuffy, and the air's scent had an undertone of rubbing alcohol and bleach. Cheap pictures hung on the wall— supposedly to be uplifting. Meadows, sunsets, children, but nothing could cure the pit that continues to grow deep inside of my stomach.

The automatic sliding glass doors continue to open and close as gurneys, paramedic's, and hospital staff alike, run to and fro in the small corridor.

We walk into a hall that had just as much life as the entrance. The floors were a slate grey, the walls a dull cream. And again, the motel-artwork hung on every other surface.

Reaching the end of what seemed like the millionth hallway, we spot Knox and Todd, slouched over in blue, hard-plastic waiting-room chairs.

I spot Neil's parents in the corner of the room. A petite woman with chestnut brown hair clings to his father tightly. Her body sinking into his, as though she were lifeless, and he was barely holding her steady.

My eyes met those of his father. They weren't cold and indignant, like they had been last night. They were icy still, but with a deep, deep sadness behind them.

Suddenly, they are ushered into another set of swinging doors, by a doctor in a stark white coat and a clipboard held tightly in his hand.

I leap forward, following their lead, hoping it will bring me to Neil.

"Miss-" a nurse says, stopping me with a manicured hand.

"That's for family only," she says sympathetically, pointing to the 'immediate family only' sign hanging just below the bold letters that read—intensive care unit.

"B-but—" is all I manage to choke out, my mind flooding with a million horrible outcomes, each one worse than the last.

"Please have a seat in the waiting area," she says in a clipped tone, gesturing to the hard plastic chairs in which sat Knox and Todd.

I dejectedly look over my shoulder at the boys. Todd hadn't risen his head from his lap since Charlie and I had arrived.

I hear a noise that stops my heart—a sob. Todd's body shook violently with them.

Knox was no different. He ran hand after hand through his hair, pulling at the soft strands— as though he was desperately trying to create a different kind of pain. One that didn't pierce his heart the way this had.

"What's going on?" I ask lowly, my heart sinking to the steel-plated grey floors.

Knox lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine for the first time since I stepped into this dreary hospital.

Charlie's eyes plead with his, silently begging him not to say anything.

It was as though he wanted me to hold on to the last moment of normalcy, until my eyes fill with the same emptiness that his had.

Sobs still rocked Todd's body in the small plastic chair, Knox placing a gentle hand on his back.

"Please," I croak, struggling to find any power to my voice.

I wonder if they had even heard me.

The small waiting room echoed with Todd's whimpers, and overhead announcements of 'code red's, blues' and just about every other colour.

Knox's head fell into his lap once again. No one could bring themselves to speak it.

"I'm going in there," I speak meekly.

I had to see him. I needed to see him. Besides, I was family— regardless of what some stupid sign says.

"Violet," Charlie warns, however it wasn't demanding— it was begging.

"—No! I want to see Neil."

Todd's breath hitches in his throat, Knox runs another yanking hand through his disheveled hair, and Charlie's limbs sag, at the mere mention of Neil's name.

"Violet!" Charlie shouts, as I race towards the swinging doors Neil's parents had just been guided through.

His arms wrap tightly around my figure, as I try to wiggle myself free from his unwavering hold.

"Charlie, let me go!" I cry, flailing my arms, but to no avail, as his hold only tightens around me, pinning my arms to my side.

"He's gone! Vi, he's gone."

Time stops.

My heart stops.

My world stops.

My arms, however, do not stop. My small hands ball themselves into fists, pounding relentlessly against Charlie's chest.

"No! No, no, no! He's not gone. He's fine! I just saw him— I just saw him a few hours ago. He's fine. Charlie, he's fine," I sob.

Charlie only grips me tighter, holding me unimaginably close, as if to absorb all of my pain.

"I never got to say goodbye, he wouldn't do that to me!" I could barely breath, my chest felt tight, and trying to inhale oxygen became an impossible feat.

My fists finally gave up, and my body fell lax against his, completely collapsing into his arms, just as Neil's mother had earlier.

I released the most painful sob against Charlie's chest. His arms loosening their restraint on my body, now gently stroking my cheek, my back, my hair— but nothing could soothe me.

"He's fine, he's fine," I sob, my voice becoming weaker and rawer with every word, with every syllable.

"He's fine."

In the gloom of the dimly-lit hospital, we both sink to the floor, our sobs intermingling and rattling our fragile bodies. I could no longer tell which were mine and which were his.

Charlie's hands continued to softly brush up and down my back. He was wordless, he just held me close. We both knew nothing he could say would mend the emptiness we feel.

Neil was gone— so nothing ever would.