Bad boys sister (gxg) ( UNDER MAJOR CONSTRUCTION)

C H A P T E R 21

"Beep. Beep. Beep."

I groan at the sound of the loud machine willing it to shut up. Whenever it didn't I sigh and open my eyes. Well try. They seem to be crusted shut.

My hands reach up to my face only for me to wince in pain as I pulled on something that seems to be connected to my arm, or rather inside my arm? A needle? The machine starts beeping louder upon my movement. As the machine screamed at me I tried not to scream back.

I manage to wipe the corners of my eyes to look around and see the plain white room I knew all too well. I had been trapped in here for six month, my freshman year in high school. After my mother.... I tried my hardest to suppress the memories, but I'm here again.

The door opens and in walks my father. He's in his scrubs. He looks at me, but doesn't hold my stare. He doesn't say anything as he messes with the heart monitor machine and checks my IV.

"Why am I here?" But I already knew the answer.

He pulls his rolling chair next to my bed and takes a seat with a sigh. Crossing his legs he looks at me. His square glasses sit on the bridge of his nose as he stares at me with that defeated look in his tired sad eyes. Was I the cause of this?

"Go ahead."

I give him a questioning look. What is he talking about?

As if reading my thoughts he goes on, "explain why your brother found you passed out cold in a random hotel room?"

"I-" he doesn't even let me get out another word as he cuts me off.

"Natalia. The amount of drugs that were in your system." The chair he sits in is one of those rolling chairs, so he rolls to the chart that is hanging by the door and grabs his clipboard, "three. Three different types of drugs. Mixed with alcohol. You better be glad your brother found you when he did or you'd be dead right now."

I look down and my hands nervously reach for my neck trying to find something to focus us on besides for the situation on hand. I scratch at my neck . My throat is numb and scratchy. Surly from the tube going down my throat to pump my stomach.

I still don't say anything as I bring my hands out in front of me and look at my finger. My nails I had gotten done for the ball were already chipped from an adventurous night. Day? Wait. How long was I out?

"What day is it?"

"Sunday," father stands up with a sigh, "we're getting you real help Natalia. Your mother found you an impatient facility. Discreet so none of your friends will know the exact details. We will tell everyone you went to boarding school."

I shake my head, "no. Wait. Please. I didn't do this on purpose. I must have just gotten a bad batch. I don't even remember mixing pills," I hold my head for a second as the room begins to spin.

"That's not the point Natalia." I wince as he uses my full name instead of the usual pumpkin or darling, "the point is this is the first time. We can get you help before it goes to far. Your mother told me about all the drugs she confiscated from you. I do not want to burry my daughter anytime soon so you will get help."

"I'm fine though! Nothing is wrong with me."

"The first step on a long road of recovery is denial. We will get through this together."

The door opens unexpectedly making both of our head snap in that direction. River walks in. He looks awful. Dis shelved hair, bags under his eyes, he looks as if he hadn't slept in days.

His eyes meet mine and he smiles, "Natalia." The way he says my name it's warm, sweet, and breathy. He's relived.

Coming over he takes a seat at the foot of my bed and takes both of my hands in his, "I thought we lost you."

"Can't get rid of me that easily brother."

He chuckles, "God knows I couldn't live without my baby sister." He leans forward and kisses my forehead.

Dad takes this time to leave the room without saying another word. I look to River, "how bad are things?"

He sigh, "pretty bad. Mom and dad are trying to cover the whole thing up. They're still doing damage control as we speak."

I shake my head and put my face in my hands, "I fucked up."

He nods his head, "yes. Yes you did. Talia what we're you thinking?"

Tears well at my eyes, "I-I. I wasn't." I shake my head. Maybe I do need help. I bring my knees up to my chest.

"What happened?"

I shake my head not wanting to think about it, "I must've accidentally mixed pills, but I don't remember," I trail off trying to think about the end of the night. I couldn't. It was a blur. I look at him, "I'm missing time. I-I can't remember the end of the night." I tangle my hands In my hair and my breathing picks up.

"Okay calm down." He grabs my wrists and untangles them from my hair, "let's back track. What do you remember?"

I slow my breathing and close my eyes trying to think, "I went to an after party. There were lots of people there. Mostly older college kids visiting home. I didn't know many of them."

"Is there anyone there that you did know?"

I open my eyes nodding my head, "Sam."

"That's a start."

-

"Una tale delusione di un dzughter." Mother looks down at me speaking in her native Italian dialect.

I put my head down understanding her fully. After all she did make me learn six different languages so I could be fluent and translate for her whenever need be. It's easier to train a young mind than a old mine she would say.

She stood still towering over me. Her long back hair is slicked back into a ponytail today. A nice tight glossy pony. She looked clean, and so so perfect.

Not a hair out of place. Not a nail unpolished (she has a natural nude color mani. Natural, a bit short, but simple and classy). No wrinkles on her two piece pant suit. And her black red bottoms didn't show a single sign of a scuff from wearing them often. And often she did.

As cold as the woman may have been she is sentimental about her shoes. Those red bottoms were the first ever gift my father gave her. She keeps up with the upkeep for those shoes.

I remember one time I got into her closet. I couldn't have been older than four. I wanted to try on her heels and be just like mommy. Eye roll. Well I ended up scuffing them.

One of the top five punishments I've ever received from her. Almost worse than the time she poured boiling water into my lap, but that's a story for another time.

That's how I knew the all white sterile smelling room. After each of these incidents I'd get locked in here until I'd heal. Everyone just assumed we went on trips.

She didn't say much else to me during this visit. Just gave me a few of her disappointing stares and then left. I don't know why she hated me so much. Actually I had a few reasons, but it's not like I'd ever actually ask her.

She'd probably just slap me and say something along the lines of not needing a reason.

Looking at the clock above the door I wondered when I'd be able to leave. Rather when they would check me into rehab. I looked around the quaint little room.

There's not much.

Just the bed, the hospital machines, and a tv that lies in front of the bed. Although it only plays educational shows like National Geographic and the history channel.

I sigh. I guess really only did this to myself.