The Beauty and the Inked

Twelve: New Friend

"Ysabelle?" my mother's soothing voice woke me, she was at the other side of the bed, "Darling, you should head home."

"I'm not going yet," I said harshly, "I will leave when he wakes up," my voice cracks at the end because even I, doubt my own words. Wake up, daddy.

"But you've been here since yesterday," she said. Her eyes were full of worries.

Yesterday? A day had passed without me even noticing it? I was all consumed with my thoughts; maybe that's why I didn't noticed that a complete day had passed. I'm peckish, but leaving is not what I want to do.

"Take some rest, eat and shower. Then you can come back," her voice was etched with concern.

"I said I don't want to leave," I hissed. I shook my head, the room was suddenly spinning. Ugh. Lack of sleep isn't good, plus the fact that I haven't eaten all day. The last time I had eaten was yesterday at Zack 's. Wow. Since I got here, I seem to forget how important things are.

"Just go, Ysabelle," she nags, "Look at you."

I glared at her, implying that I won't leave, that I will stay. But she wasn't backing down. Like mother like daughter— no.

"Fine! I'll be back later," I stormed out of the room. Maybe she was right, I badly needed a rest. I'm beginning to feel the fatigue. Because my feet seem to be having a hard time to carry me. I walked down the hall with my head down, my thoughts wandered.

Will my Dad wake up?

When will he wake up?

I miss him.

I regret everything that I have done.

I regret running away.

God, please help me. Help him.

I feel so terrible, and my insides were in chaos. I'm lost, all these years I've been so selfish. All I think was how to escape from my life. All I did was to be free from my family... I don't know what to do; I just don't know how to deal with this. I ran away because of Tim, I did it because of him. But why is this happening?

I'm sorry, Daddy.

I am sorry.

Forgive me, Dad.

"Look where you're going!" a voice pulled me back to earth, it was from a middle-aged man. His arm was covered with a bandage and his shirt was blood-stained. The way he look at me made me flinch, I can see how discourteous he is, "What?!"

"I— I'm s-sorry," I stutter, I stepped back. Man, chill down. He was fuming. Okay, it was my fault I wasn't looking where I was going, but I already apologized, right? And can't he see? I'm wrecked. Then it hit me: people are so selfish to see other’s misery.

"Maybe you—"

"Excuse me?" I turned to look at the source of the voice; it was my Dad's private nurse. I mentally thanked him for saving me from the madman. He placed his hand on my shoulder. The grumpy man was still glaring at me, but my dad's private nurse stood protectively over me. The grumpy man murmured something to him then walked away. I smiled at the nurse and he led me out of the hospital.

"Thank you," I said under my breath. We were walking on the sidewalk and his hand was no longer resting on my shoulder.

"Don't mention it," his warm smile was calming. He had this crystal blue eyes that compliments in his almost pale white skin, "I'm Logan."

"Yssa," I smiled.

"It’s been a long time," he chuckled.

"I’m sorry?” I gave him the safest answer.

"You don’t really remember? Sixth Grade?”

Suddenly he looked all too familiar, “Logan Lazam?!”

I was rewarded with a shy smile. “It’s been a long time. I feel bad for Mr. Pasco though..." he said almost to himself, I don't know if he intended for me to hear it or what. But the sympathy in his voice made the lump in my throat to appear again.

It's because of the guilt; it's because of my selfishness. It is because of me. I don’t know how to reply so I just look around, avoiding his eyes.

"I'm on my break, can we, uhm, have lunch?" his eyes were gauging my reaction with his sudden words.

I draw air into my lungs in an exaggerated manner, "I'm famished, so yeah, let's go."

"I know, you haven't eaten all day yesterday," I was surprised with his words, of course he knew I hadn't eaten all day. He checks on my Dad every now and then, I am definitely sure he saw me crying all day long.

"Are you sure that you were checking up on my Dad, and not on me?" I said, slightly teasing him. I slid in an empty booth and Logan followed me sitting across me.

"Of course, I am," he said. He was grinning like a boy.

"Of course,” I half-smiled, biting my lower lip to refrain from grinning like he does.

"I don't want to lose my job, so I'm pretty good at doing it," he was waving his hand on the air, completely over doing his explanation.

"Okay, then."