Chapter 10.

What reason is there to live anymore?" was the question that lingered my mind as I tossed and turned that night, unable to sleep.

Morning, at least, came eventually.

*

I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror, observing how ornate it is. I can tell the glass is strong without even touching it... And even if I bash my head repeatedly against it, it wouldn't cause that much damage, right?

After all, I am living with a doctor. I'll just get my head stitched and he'll mail me back to Jim's with a note saying 'Next time you think of giving me a housemate, please have them undergo a psychological test first'.

Then again, I can't even be sure that it is Tony's corpse that was found. It might just be one of his cheap flings.

Jim told me yesterday the body was so burnt that the police couldn't tell if it was a male or a female. A part of me wants to confront Jim - to be sure he's not the arsonist - but that would suggest I'm questioning my trust in him. And I'm not. I'm really not.

I trust Jim completely.

Yes, Jim hates Tony... And Tony certainly hates Jim back... But Jim wouldn't go as far as to actually set his house on fire, would he?

The thought's just too horrifying.

But even though I hate it, I hate that Tony has given me pain, I'm trying hard not to cry for him. I hate that my ego is bruised by him, but that I'm still terrified something's happened.

The tap below me squeaks open when I pull the lever up as I remove my glasses and place them at the top of the sink, dipping my head in the water, in the hope that it'll cool off my stupid nerves.

This isn't how karma works is it? I mean, I've seen a lot of instances when it comes to karma hitting people hard.

Like when eleven-year-old Garret tried using my lucky ruler to measure his tongue(Yeah he was that dumb) and threw up on it. It was a week later by the time Jack puked all over his Math homework.

From that very moment, I came to accept Jack as the best brother ever.

Now those are the types of karma that make me grin so hard, the silly little things that make me feel like I've just been locked in a room full of ice cream.

But the thing with Tony's house being burned down? That type of karma makes me want to curl up and cry.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I shove my glasses back over my eyes to read the text message.

J. M. W. HOSPITAL, 4356, WISCONSIN STREET

TONY'S THERE. GO NOW.

I don't know if it's the urgency in the voice of the text message or the fact that Tony might be alive that makes me bolt out the bathroom door, almost tripping on my own foot. But I move so fast that I'm already out of my room before I remember I forgot my purse and have to sprint back.

The lights in the living room are turned off and there's no sign of Maverick. His car isn't in the driveway either.

The humid air roaming about the streets whips my hair into my face as I climb into a cab that stops in front of me.

Just as I always do, I peer out of the cab, observing the gloomy sky and feasting on my fingernails.

"Step on it," I tell the cabman when my anxiety kicks in worse than ever, desperate to get to the hospital as soon as possible.

~~~~

We did not, however, get to the hospital as soon as possible.

It was more like 'as slow as possible'.

I dash out of the cab before it has even come to a stop and almost fall flat. But I couldn't care less.

I just need to get to the hospital.

The nervousness at the pit of my stomach deepens as my legs slowly make their way into the building, dragging the rest of my body with them.

The hospital is huge, I must say.

It's eight storeys tall and the name of the hospital is boldly mounted at the top of the building.

Gosh, I can't remember the last time I visited a hospital. I've always been a healthy kid while growing up so going to the hospital wasn't a norm for me. The one time I do remember going, though, is the time Jim broke my glasses and I had to go to an Optician to get new ones.

I clutch my stomach and scrunch my nose up in disgust when I see a teenage boy being carried on a stretcher, completely covered in bruises and deep cuts. His head looks like it's been bashed into a wall repeatedly and I move the hand on my stomach to my mouth, trying not to puke at the droplets of blood trailing with him as he's rushed to the emergency room.

Maybe coming to the hospital was a bad idea. Maybe I should turn back and go home. Maybe I should...

"Ms?"

I snap out of my thoughts and squint at the petite nurse standing in front of me with a stethoscope hanging around her neck.

"Are you here for someone?"

"Yeah," I say, too low for her to hear. Then I clear my throat and raise my voice. "Yes. Is there a Tony Moriah in this hospital?"

One of her eyebrows shoots up as if saying 'Never heard of him' and my heartbeat quickens. If he isn't the one being hospitalized, then that means he's already-

"Wait," says the nurse suddenly, snapping her small fingers, "are you talking about the guy who had a fire attack?"

I nod immediately.

"Oh, I was just on my way to attend to him. This way please."

I give a deep sigh of relief as I follow behind her, scrunching my nose in response to the hospital scent. It makes me sick to the stomach.

My phone vibrates again and I bring it up to my face to read another text from Jim:

I know u didn't sleep last night and neither did I. Had to force a police friend to tell me the name of the hospital.

I'm glad the corpse wasn't Tony's. You'd have called me already and cried your eyes out if it was.

I'm still not saying I like him but, if you still do, I understand. You're my cutest Panda and I love u

- J

I chuckle at the text as his words warm up my insides. I'm stupid for ever thinking Jim was the arsonist and I couldn't be more feel more guilty for thinking that before.

I know he'll pay to watch Tony suffer but he cares more about my feelings than his desire to wipe Tony off the the earth.

I sometimes wish my heart was as huge as his.

"Are you coming in?" The nurse stops in front of room 305 and I shake my head.

I wouldn't be able to handle being in the same room with him. Not, at least, without breaking down in front of all the nurses.

Instead, while the nurse goes inside, I just stand at the window and hug myself, watching as something is injected into a sleeping Tony.

He looks peaceful and adorable when his mouth is not spewing so much nonsense.

I'm so absorbed in my thoughts that I don't even notice the bimbo sitting at the other side of the bed until she stands up and stretches her arm for a handshake with a male nurse.

His back is turned towards me, so I don't get to see his face... but I can clearly remember the girl from the club the other day.

If it wasn't Tony or his bimbo that was burnt to death, who was it?

As if feeling someone's gaze on the back of his head, the male nurse turns around and I get a clear view of his face.

I choke.

The male nurse is Maverick Wright.