Hollow

Chapter 44

Okay, so first of all, I cannot apologize enough for how long this update has taken. I have no excuses, I just felt very unmotivated to write, and that goes for all of my stories.

I'm trying my best to get back into it. I love writing and I have every intention of finishing my works.

I deeply encourage you to go back and re-read the last two or three chapters for a recap.

Thank you so much for being patient with me. I will try to have the epilogue up soon!

~ ~ ~

I didn't know how long I had been here, but it seemed like forever. I was exhausted; my limbs felt much heavier than normal, and my entire body seemed to weigh a ton. I couldn't get the image out of my head; my mom lying in a pool of her own blood. This was all my fault. I had made every wrong decision and it wasn't me who was paying the price. It was my loving, innocent mother.

The cold chill of the hospital air had no effect on my already-numb body. If I could feel, I might have noticed myself shivering. No positive updates came. No one could say anything to relieve any of the tension from me. I felt like I was holding in a breath that I couldn't release, no matter how much my lungs ached to.

"We don't know anything yet. She's in surgery right now. They say she lost a lot of blood." The way my father spoke to the rest of the family, it was hard to find any hope inside of me. He had seen exactly what I had; felt the panic that I had; seen the blood of a person we loved so much dripping from his fingers. How could he feel hopeful? Still, I did hope. I hoped and wished and prayed with everything in me that she would be okay. I pleaded with the universe to reverse time and let the bullet hit me instead of her. As each minute passed and the doctors had no update, my hope dwindled more and more.

I looked down at my hands and bit down on my lip. I laced my fingers together, letting out a shuddered breath. My hands were bruised and my clothes were stained with blood that I knew was not my own. I didn't know if it was my mother's or Cecelia's, or both.

"Miss, can you answer the question?"

My hollowed eyes raised up to meet the brown ones of the agent questioning me. If I had already been speaking to him, I had no idea what had been said. I didn't know what question he had just asked me. I wasn't even sure how long exactly I had been on this bench in front of him. I knew he and his partner must have pulled me aside to question me on the events that happened in my house, but I wasn't comprehending anything.

"How long have you known Cecelia was following you?" He asked, and I assumed he was repeating himself.

"Vanessa told me." I answered, although the voice did not sound like my own.

"So, you didn't know that someone had been tracking and watching you for weeks?" He asked.

"I thought so. I thought I was being paranoid. I didn't know it was her." I squeezed my hands into fists. "I didn't know I had to be careful. Didn't think this would happen. I didn't know. It's because of me."

The backs of my eyes ached as they tried and failed to produce tears. I couldn't cry anymore. The thought alone seemed impossible. I had shed more tears in the twenty-four hours I had been in the hospital than any other time in my life.

I let out a shuddered breath and stood up suddenly.

"I need to go." Without waiting for an objection, I walked down the hall of the hospital and toward a pair of glass double doors. The doors led me outside onto a balcony. It was peaceful and quiet, unlike my mind which was raging with guilt and grief.