miss sunshine

Adrian stared at the blonde for a moment after her outburst. All he’d said was that there was no security staff monitoring her, and she couldn’t sit out there alone. He wasn’t used to sharp tongues in a place of healing. “I mean that you being out here with little to no supervision is enough to get you into trouble… Is that really what you want?” She didn’t seem to be doing anything wrong but he didn’t really know who this one was. 

“The garden is normally patrolled by two security guards, but one called in and the other is on his break you’re not allowed to be out here unsupervised. The art room is quiet today, if you’re looking for a quiet place to work.”

“Is it really that different?” Payson had never put much thought into it… her name had always just been her name. “I mean, I’ve gotta ask… any correlation between you -your name- and this place?” she asked half jokingly. The odds were slim, of course, but it’s not like Payson had ever even heard of the name Abrielle before. Sitting on floors wasn’t below her, but it was definitely a far cry from the custom crafted formal dining room chairs of her former life. At least living with Elise for the last month was good for something… it made for a somewhat-easier transition to Brielle. Payson walked over, making a mental note to clean her white jeans off when she got up to avoid any permanent stains. “Thanks,” she said as the blonde lowered herself to the floor. “How long have you been waiting for?” She asked. Payson had been high for almost the entirety of the trip, and hadn’t been told much info about the place, at least none that she remembered, and had many questions itching in the back of her head.

Ryder had been asleep.

It was what he did most of the time. His hospital room was dark, with one grimy, cracked window that did nothing to counteract the harsh fluorescent lights that beamed down from above him. Since Ryder had been here, he’d gotten few visitors. Adam didn’t show, which he both expected but was still hurt by, but Doc had stopped in once or twice, and one day he’d found a couple paperbacks on his bedside table. He still didn’t know who those were from, but he appreciated them nonetheless.

But reading only got him so far, and he’d already read the Hemingway novel a couple times. So he slept, and slept, and slept. Besides, sleeping was supposed to help heal, right?

Ryder had had the lights off–to keep some sense of normalcy, plus he could barely make it to the switch and back without help now–when his door had opened, slammed, and introduced the sound of a hysteric girl. 

He propped himself up on his elbows, peering into the darkness. It was pretty fucking dark and with some effort he sat all the way up, the blankets falling off his stitched-up side. 

Ryder really wasn’t expecting to hear his own name. Especially not coming from someone who sounded just like his sister.

“Bri? Abrielle, is that you?” Disuse had rendered his voice hesitant, but he spoke anyways. “Shit. Bri?”

suddenly the blonde was a CHILD again- fourteen. fourteen and ABANDONED as her big brother- her family- turned down the opportunity to be her legal guardian and turned her over to the foster system. she felt so small and helpless , seeing his face and not knowing what to say, words slipping past her as her teeth bit cruelly on the tip of her tongue. hearing his voice made her want to cry, made her want to tell him about how HORRIBLE life has been for her- how weak she felt, how tired she was, how thankful she was to no longer alone.  

and yet here she was, in a dull hospital room with her big brother feeling more ALONE than she ever had living on the streets. living in the foster system. living with two deadbeat parents. . . and saying NOTHING. no, she didn’t want to say anything to him. she wanted to SCREAM.

 ryder had ruined her fucking LIFE.

after getting settled in her room and receiving a physical check-up ( mainly to check her scarred arms and EVIDENT malnourishment ), a scrawny, exhausted, and insanely confused abrielle was sent to yet another dark, unwelcoming room with little information and little aid from the nurses. she was told NOTHING, and was left confused and by herself when the nurses shut the door- leaving her ALONE ( or so she thought ). abrielle, panicking, paced towards the door and jiggled the handle- it had been locked. . . temporarily, she had hoped. ❝ what the FUCK is going on??❞  the girl began to smack her palms on the door, kicking it with her foot; ❝ hey- OPEN THIS DOOR!! what is WRONG with you people?? this is some fuckin’ stephen king ass BULLSHIT.❞ when she received no answer, the frantic blonde turned around to press her back to the wood, head hung as she tried to stop herself from crying. it was then she heard a movement, and slowly she raised her head. she saw a shadow, her heart beginning to thud wildly in her chest. . . and after squinting, she could just make out who it was;

 “Okay–Okay well um, we don’t need to calm down then!” Donovan scrambled over his words trying to somehow make things better. He had been told before by the other kids back at Sir’s place that he talked too much and too loud, but he still continued to speak to the blonde. “I was just um asking you if other patients had arrived with you or not.” 

“Next to him, I’m probably as uncrazy as it gets,” Payson replied with a scoff before turning towards the voice. The girl in front of her looked relatively normal, which was a relief. Surely most people in here weren’t trying to mimic those inflatable wind dancing car sales noodle things like that boy was, but Bri’s words indicated that she probably shouldn’t get her hopes up. “Seriously? How much worse can it get….” she muttered. “Bri it is then. I’m Payson, Saunders,” the blonde gave a polite half-smile. “I’m glad I’m not the only one coming in today. Is there a long wait…?” Payson asked, eyeing the duffel bag.

Tristan smacked his head with his palm, gritting his teeth together as he paced the space in front of the vacant nurses’ station impatiently. “Just– Just fuckin’ tell me if you’ve seen a dark haired older girl named Demi, okay? Not that hard,” he growled, cracking his knuckles all at once. “She wouldn’t go MIA without telling me first.”