Pretending (bxb)

chapter 1

A hospital. I don't think I've actually been to a hospital since I was born. It was so bright in here, and the huge ass window that was to the left of the bed really wasn't helping at all. My eyes stung.

Once my eyes finally started to adjust, I looked down at my body and almost had a heart attack. There was a cast on my right arm, that was the first thing I noticed. I was in a very revealing hospital gown that showed off my legs and my arms. Those legs and arms were covered in dark bruises. I couldn't even begin to imagine how horrible my stomach looked.

Holy fucking shit!

I'm in a hospital. My father was probably arrested.

I'm in a hospital and my fucking father was arrested and now I'm an orphan with a broken arm and a fucked up body.

I'm an orphan!? Shit where am I gonna go? Am I to old to be put into foster care? Are they gonna send me to a mental institution? What if they put me in foster care and my foster parents lock me in a room under the stairs for the rest of my life!? Holy shit what if they send me to jail for that one time when I-

My rambling thoughts are cut off as the door opens and I jerk my head to stare at the person who entered the room. It's a man, most likely in his 30's. He's wearing glasses and a white coat over his blue button up shirt and black pants. I notice that he's also wearing a tie and it's red with yellow polkadots.  He must be my doctor.

He doesn't notice that I'm staring at him, because he's looking down at a clipboard and writing things down as he slowly walks over to the bed.

And then, almost as if he felt me watching him, he quickly looks up and makes eye contact with me. His eyes widen for a moment before they go back to normal and he clears his throat before speaking.

"You're awake. I would've thought It'd take a few more hours. You have a pretty bad concussion there, Quinn. You're lucky we got you to the hospital when we did, otherwise..." He didn't finish his sentence.

I tense a little as he walks over to the side of the bed, but he doesn't seem to be offended and instead he starts to check my vitals.

"How do you feel?" He asks. The fuck do you think?

"Fine."

I was surprised at hearing my own voice. It sounded croaky and strange, so I cleared my throat but I don't think that really helped. I needed water.

I knew someone was going to have to have a talk with me. Someone was gonna need to fill me in on everything, tell me where I'm going to go, what happened to my father, what my future will look like.  But I'm a very impatient person, so if this guy didn't start talking I was going to get mad.

"I'm sure you want answers, I can tell by the look on your face. But I'm afraid I'm not the one who can give them to you. You're social worker- Mrs. Lamprey- will come to check on you shortly, she's the one who has all the information," he pauses for a moment as he grabs something from a cabinet. "For now I need to check a few things."

So I have a social worker now? Fun.

I sighed, annoyed, as he cleaned some tool. He turned it on and a light came from it. He brought it up to my face, without warning, and shined it in my eyes. Asshole.

"Follow the light as best as you can," he says as he starts to move the light across my eyes. I do the best I can, though judging by his expression he didn't seem to pleased.

"How long have I been here?" I ask him, to impatient to wait for my so called social worker. He stops what he's writing on the clipboard and makes eye contact with me again. Not gonna lie, he sort of freaked me out.

"I told you I wasn't the one giving all the answers. Mrs. Lamprey-

"I don't give two fucks about Mrs. Lamprey, dumb fuck. Now answer my question before you regret it!" The guy started at me, wide eyed, and didn't say anything for a long 30 seconds. He genuinely seemed scared, which I guess I sorta had that effect on people.

"You've only been here since last night as far as I know. Obviously I have to inform you of the basics, it's just regular old protocol, so I'm going to tell you about your condition. You have a broken left arm, both your pointer and middle finger are broken, there are three fractured ribs, and many bruises and cuts covering your torso and back. You also have a concussion.You suffer from malnutrition and dehydration, and you're blood sugar was dangerously low when you came in. We'll provide you with multiple medications to get you back and running on your feet. You'll also need to make sure you're drinking plenty of water. My coworker has also set you up with a meal plan in order to better improve your eating habits. That's really all I know so far."

"Huh. Not as bad as I thought," I shrugged it off. The doctor just started at me in disbelief.

"Right, well... I'm going to inform everyone you're awake. You're social worker should be present soon." He says as he slowly walks backwards, before turning around and hurrying out of the room.

I just sigh and lay back into the pillows. This is gonna be a long fucking day.

A/N: Ok so I literally don't know anything about how social workers really work. So if any of this sounds very unrealistic, I apologize. Any feedback is definitely welcome though!