CHAPTER 7
Edward Marcel Styles P.O.V
I looked through the details. There was so much they wanted to know about me. My birthdate, my address, contact details, guardians. I don't know half of them myself.
After about 30 minutes I had completed as much as could in the document and resisted the urge to put down false information. I put down the papers on the bedside table and waited for something to happen. After waiting another 20 minutes Marcel came in. I like that boy. Not in that way. But something about him, even though he was so nerdy and nothing like me, made me want to get to know him, become friends even. Although I know that something's off. The way he looks at me. The way he acts around me. I think he may get bullied at school because he seems to be too afraid. More afraid then what people usually are around me.
When Marcel came in he looked nervous, go figure, he's scared.
"I....urrrr. Ummm... my shift's over now s-so I have to go home n-now. I would l-like to inform you that y-you can be discharged from hospital in th-three days' time if you recover how we expect," he stuttered bowing his head goodbye.
I was disappointed but I said goodbye quietly before he left.
The next hour or so was busy. They moved me out of the emergency room and into the short stay ward down the hall.
After my bed and I moved I shortly fell asleep for the night even though it was painful finding a good enough position.
"Edward?" I heard a man's voice whisper as he knocked quietly on my door. I opened my eyes slowly to see the digital clock next to my bed, it was 7:37 on a Saturday morning. I groaned and sat up, my sides almost pain free which was a sensation I hadn't felt in years. I looked up to see Dr. Lukewood walk in holding the file I filled in yesterday. "Edward I thank you for filling in the files here but I insist you fill in some additional notes. For example your wrist." He looked down at me curiously.
Yesterday I had purposely forgotten to tell the doctors about the multiple cuts, which they have now bandaged up, that were scattered on my right wrist. "I...urrrr. I fell onto some broken glass a few days ago," I muttered trying to make a believable excuse.
If by now you are wondering what actually happened I think you already know. I sometimes fall into the habit of harming myself. Yes I do do (lol I just said do do) self-harm but you shouldn't worry, I'm not depressed enough to even think about suicide. I'll never do that. I've never even thought about that and I never will. I know, it is disappointing I know but I just can't. I try and stop I really do it's just in the last week or so I picked up my old habit. When I started living with Dan I used to cut around my shoulders on my left side, left because I'm right handed. After about a month I forced myself to stop. Last year when I turned 16 I was so disappointed in myself I got tattoos to cover the old scars and my hole left side to try and prevent myself from temptation which obviously failed.
Recently Dan had become more and more violent so I don't know how I started again but I will stop, I am now forcing myself to stop.
"Are you sure Mr...." Dr. Lukewood looked down at the notes, "Styles is it?"
"I'm sure," I replied looking down as shame started to consume me.
"Okay. Get some more rest. I will be around if you need me and my assistant should arrive for work in a couple of hours so, get well soon." he nodded walking out looking down at my notes and out of my sight.
I laid back down and tried to get some rest. I was trying to fall asleep for what seemed like only minutes but every time I closed my eyes something hurt and I woke up again. Once I get too frustrated to sleep I used the bed remote to lift the back up and I sat up.
I looked over at the clock to see it was 10:00. Wow. I didn't even know I had actually fallen asleep.
I looked around hoping Marcel would walk in any moment but I got bored.
I tried to entertain myself with counting the dots on the ceiling but when I got to 100 I was tired again. Man. What are they putting in those fluids. I'm so tired all the time.
Suddenly my phone rang from the bedside table so I reached over and answered.
"Hello?" I groaned into the mic.
"Oh Dear God. Edward, sweetheart are you all right?" A woman's voice yelled from the other end of the line.
"Urrrr..... Who are you?" I said relieved I was somehow being entertained.
"Oh. Edward my name is Mrs. Daver. I am one of the house mothers at the local St. Paul's orphanage. You were scheduled to come back to us tomorrow but the hospital just called. Edward are you alright?"
"Urr... Yeah I'm fine. I will apparently be released in like 2 days. Don't worry about me ma'am." I spoke clearly. I know you are thinking why am I acting this way? It's because I don't get to make good first impressions very often because of the way I look so over the phone she thinks I'm normal and nice instead of assuming the opposite straight away.
"Okay sweetheart. When you get released we will have somebody outside looking for you. I haven't met you before so can you tell me what to look for?"
"Well, I look unique. Not what an ordinary 17 year old looks like," I smirked.
"O-okay. Anything else?"
"I have black hair if that helps."
"Well, okay then. I hope to see you soon darling. I am so sorry that the orphanage let you live with that awful man for seven years. Okay, bye bye," the woman chimed.
She hung up first and I placed the phone back on the table. 'Okay... back to boredom,' I thought to myself.
"H-hi," a very quiet and shy voice spoke from the door after about 10 minutes. It was Marcel. Oh thank God he's finally here. YAY!!
YOU ARE READING
Harry, Edward and Marcel
Fanfiction{completed} Harry Styles, the famous singer from One Direction has always known about his past. He knows that he is an orphan who has been living with a foster family for almost 15 years now. He, unlike Edward and Marcel, has always known he was 1 p...
