Charles Hill's Story

Almost immediately after my cries for Violet left my lips, I heard someone shouting back "Over here! Over here!", a few times. I knew that voice. It wasn't Violet's, but rather...

"Is that Sam...?" I asked the empty air as I kept running. I had thought I'd also heard my name being called from behind, which, if it was another one of my friends, was something of a godsend. If something happened to Violet, and there was no one there to stop me... I was afraid that I really would end up behind bars for doing something outrageous. "I'm on my way!" I shouted back at the voice ahead of me. I was sure it had to be Sam, but my senses were a little blurry with fear and rage, so there was a chance I was just hoping it was him. Who better to have in case someone gets injured, right? Not that I expected the guy to be carrying around a bunch of medical supplies when going to a party. Then again, he just might have.

Having pushed my body into overdrive, I finally managed to catch up to the owner of the voice-- rather, he came back to meet up with me, and he wasn't alone...

"Sam!" I called out as the sound of his frightened voice echoed toward me, telling me to hurry. My feet slowly came to a halt, my breath heavy as I watched an equally, if not more, out-of-breath Sam kneel over a body. It was like my heart dropped into my shoes; my world almost shattered at the thought of the state she was in. "NO!" I screamed, immediately thinking the worst, my past experiences flooding back to greet me with a cold embrace. I felt the inner Nate go crazy, and I couldn't help but kick my feet off the pavement once more, rushing toward her.

"Vi!" I yelled, absentmindedly placing a hand on Sam's back for slight support as I came to a skid on my knees, sliding across the pavement. "Oh, God..." I exhaled, my voice slightly shaky. "VIOLET!?" My voice cracking slightly, I felt my body move on its own once more, which I was beginning to allow in full. Scooping her up slightly, I held her limp upper body in my arms, almost forgetting to be careful; Sam had said she was hurt, and it was now apparent as she was breathing somewhat hard, a pained expression on her face. At least she wasn't dead; that was all I could tell myself as I looked at Sam, who, in this life, had never seen me so frightened.

"Violet...?" I asked, checking her over. "Please, talk to me..." Giving her shoulder a squeeze as I brushed some hair from her eyes as my own pair began to burn slightly. I could help it. It was all just so surreal. So familiar... Sam had long since left our side, deserving of resting for a while after trying so hard to reach their friend. Charlie had apparently been by my side ever since I stopped running, but I wasn't paying attention to anything besides the immediate problem that was currently crumpled in my arms. Knowing I still had more energy left in my legs, I moved to lift her up, only for her to cry out in pain, making me set her back down. "Shit...! Sorry, Vi..." I hissed, hating myself for causing her more pain. This time, more carefully, I cradled her gently, rising to meet Charlie who was also out of breath, clearly frightened for Violet as well. I quickly adjusted to him being there, turning to talk directly to him.

"Charlie, help Sam up-- please." I said, looking back down at Violet's face, which was glistening with sweat under the moonlight. "We need to hurry back; tell the others." Without another word, I took off back down the road, albeit much slower than my initial run out there, not wanting to cause any more unnecessary pain for the girl I was carrying. "Hang on, Vi... Please, just hang on..." I said in a low, strained voice, speaking more to myself than to her. The clock in my head was still ticking, only much louder than before. It was tethered to me, after all...

Sam had said that it was just broken ribs, but he was no doctor, despite his apparent potential for being one if he were ever allowed the chance to pursue such a career. Realizing this, I asked for her voice. I needed to make sure she was alright...

"Talk to me, Vi..." I said, voice dry and my chest, burning. "Let me hear your voice...!" I kept telling myself over and over again that she would be okay; that this wasn't a premature link to her death. I still had a chance to fix this. Knowing this, I reminded myself that I was seriously out of it in this life. Had this been the curse's doing, I would have lost her for sure... I needed to figure out what was wrong with me. Figure out why the inner Nate was taking control so prominently. Was my mind tired? My soul...? Scared at the thought of it being the latter, I readjusted Violet's position in my arms to get a better hold of her, only to hear her groan slightly, growling at myself, I pushed on, hearing that annoying music float back to me, which, oddly enough thanks to the situation, instantly made me feel somewhat relieved...

Charlie slowed to a walk as he was able to clearly make out two figures standing only a few feet away from him. Nate and Sam.

Charlie was panting as his lungs gasped desperately for air and his legs burned from the surprise run, this have had better have been a big emergency for him to nearly die running.

"Hey...Nate..what's...the...big.....deal?" Charlie managed to get out between huge swallows of air. Coming to a stop next to his black haired friend, he finally saw the crumpled up body of Violet. She looked hurt, more than that she looked like she was in pain, excruciating pain.

"Vi..." Charlie's voice was hollow as he stared down at the girl who was now cradled in Nate's arms.

Wow how so much could change in a matter of hours. Just early he was joking around with Violet, laughing with her. Now she was lying on the sidewalk looking to be on her death bed.

Charlie's mind went blank, he needed to help her, but how. He wasn't a doctor, he didnt have any medical experience, but he needed to help.

"Charlie, help Sam up-- please." Charlie's eye locked with Nate's, a kind of relief flooding through him at something to do. Giving a swift nod he watched as Nate brushed past him and began to walk down the sidewalk with Violet in his arms, before he quickly scurried over to Sam.

"You okay man?" Charlie asked concerned at the site of the sick looking teen. Gently placing a hand on Sam's back he helped him up, hooking an arm around the boy's waist while he threw one of Sam's arms around his neck. He had no idea if Sam actually needed any help walking or he just needed help getting up, but the way the usually tanned skinned teen now held a kind of pale color gave Charlie the hint that he wasn't really in the right mood to talk.

As they finally arrived back at the party, Charlie let Sam go, instantly getting out his phone.

Violet needed an ambulance he was pretty sure of that, and he could do that. Charlie shakily dialed 911 knowing he wouldn't be the most popular guy for the next few weeks for crashing the party.

"911 what's your emergency?" The operator's voice came on making him feel kind of shaky.

"Uhh..hello. I need an ambulance for a friend. She's hurt, I don't know how, but I think it's bad."

"Okay where's your location?"

Charlie blushed feeling stupid for not adding his location, quickly telling the lady the address of the party he hung up and roughly shoved his battered phone back into his pocket.

"Okay I called an ambulance. Hang in there Vi." He didnt know if she could actually hear him, but he hoped the words would soothe her if she could.

"Oh I'll text everybody." Charlie added after a few second taking out his phone again before sending a mass text to everyone. Well almost everyone. His finger hovered over the button, that would either exclude Oz from the text or add him to the list.

Oscar is Violet's friend, it wouldnt be right for him not to know she's hurt Charlie reminded himself. The image of Oz rubbing Briton's back flashed through his mind, instantly making him send the text before adding Oz's name. Biting his lip guilty Charlie shoved his phone into his pocket.

In the midst of the party, the scene between Briton and Oz seemed inconsequential. Around them, the mass of people were talking, drinking, dancing, all clustered tightly together. The music still pulsated throughout the house, the song unknown, muffled by the mass of people within, but the beat thrummed through the very floor like an elevated heartbeat, spurring on the revelry and the gyrating, dancing bodies within the darkened room. No one spared the little dramas within the room any notice, dull attentions too wrapped up in the next drink, the next song, the next fight that might break out in the room fueled by sex, drugs, and alcohol. And even if they had, what would they have seen? A boy who had too much of one of the many sinful delights circulating around the party? Someone who couldn't hold their liquor?

But, for all the chaos around them, Oz's sole focus was on Briton, apparently just as ignorant of the people moving maybe four feet away from him as they were of him. The other boy was trying to straighten up now, but, even if Oz hadn't been able to see him, he could feel him trembling violently beneath his hand. Oz didn't have experience with medical emergencies apart from scrapes and scratches from a dozen minor accidents, and he was beginning to feel out of his depth. However, his freaking out about this wasn't going to help anyone, so he steadied his own hand, pushing back anxiety into that dark little corner of his mind to be ignored.

Briton's head was bobbing now, perhaps unconsciously as he struggled for breath. He whispered something that was lost among the cacophony of sound swirling around them, but his nods became more definite, more defined until it was a very clear yes. Well, that was that. Straightening up, Oz wrapped an arm around Briton's shoulder, wrapped around his friend like a security blanket or a shield against the outside world. Looking around for the exit, the door seemed to be miles away in the maze of people, but Oz was nothing if not patient with the situation. With a single-minded determination, he began to move, slowly ushering Briton along with him, through the throngs of people. Despite their slow and steady pace, they were only a short ways away from the door before anything happened. Someone crashed into Oz causing the taller boy to stagger back, loosening his grip on Briton and causing an apology to tumble automatically off of Oz's lips. His head quickly turned to see who'd bumped into him, only to see a blond boy disappear into the crowd. Was that Charlie…? Oz brushed off the idea. There was no way that was Charlie. For one, he hadn't stopped to ask after Briton who was obviously not doing well. And, for another, he hadn't stopped to tease Oz for apologizing for something that wasn't his fault. With that in mind, he made a mental reminder to text Charlie like he'd promised Briton.

Outside of the house, the world was almost muted, the music from within escaping through any way possible but overall much more quiet. Oz couldn't guess what temperature it was outside, but compared to the sweaty humidity of the party, it seemed to be delightfully cool. He had no problem finding Briton's car despite the other vehicles haphazardly parked around the home. Oz might not have been a car person, but once you started associating them as "Briton's Car" or "Nate's Car", it became easier to distinguish them after the many rides they'd given him when his car had been lent to his older step-sister. When they'd actually made it to the car, he was almost startled by the keys being slipped into his hand. Oh. Oh, right. He was driving. It only just struck him that he didn't have his license on him. Well, he would just have to drive safely, now wouldn't he?

Briton was shuffling to the passenger seat now and Oz couldn't help but gaze worriedly at him as he made his way around the car, stopping to cough halfway to his destination. It wasn't until Briton actually got into the passenger's seat that Oz followed his example. Sitting in the driver's seat was a bizarre experience given that he'd only ever been stuck in the back or, on the occasion where it was just the two of them, in the passenger seat. He almost commented on it, to lighten up the situation, but the anecdote withered in his throat when he looked over to see Briton gazing dully back. Well. Well, that could certainly wait.

The vaguely familiar drive to Briton's house was quiet, the silence broken only by Briton's coughing spells that drew Oz's attention with ever wheezed breath. Still, however, he stayed calm, fingers tapping unconsciously on the steering wheel to no particular beat. Still, as he pulled up to Briton's apartment building, it was a stark relief if only because the answer to this problem was most likely hidden away inside Briton's home. After locking the car behind them(there might now have been much crime in the city, but, hey, better safe than sorry, right?) Oz hovered over the shorter boy with each step up the rickety staircase like the mother-hen he admittedly was. There was still silence between them, no words spoken which made other noises- coughs, creaking steps, the wind rustling through leaves- all the louder.

Keys were passed over and the door was soon open, Briton stumbling in and Oz following behind, as he always did. That's when Briton broke the fragile silence, voice rasping but the words clear.

"C-could you just...g-get me some water?"

"Gotcha," Oz agreed. Briton's house wasn't nearly as familiar as Nate's, but he knew his way around reasonably well. Well enough to find the kitchen and, after only a second's recollection, remember which cabinet held the glasses. This… This he could do. He liked to help, honestly he did, whether the situation be serious like this or just someone needing a ride somewhere. He liked to… no, if he was honest with himself, he needed to be needed. If no one needed him and he never asked for anything, there went his connection with people, didn't it? If no one needed him- the easy child, the amiable friend, the confidant, the ride, the wallet, the good kid- then what was he?

The sound of a crash from Briton's room jerked him out of his reverie and, despite his normal relaxed if a bit sluggish pace, he was a sudden blur of motion, racing over to check on his friend. Should he have just taken him to the hospital? Called 911? Briton did have a habit of understating things so that people wouldn't fuss over him- had it been a mistake to trust him? He arrived just in time to see Briton's inhaler- asthma, his mind added unhelpfully, Briton apparently had asthma- go flying onto the floor and the boy slowly regaining his color and a normal breath. Oh, thank God. Thank God Oz hadn't made a mistake and that Briton was fine.

The room was messy, unlike Nate's almost clinical neatness in his room, but Oz didn't mind as he made his way into the room, deftly picking up Briton's inhaler and setting it softly on the dresser, leaving the drawer for now. There were a million questions that he could have asked- was he okay now? Why hadn't he told anyone that he had asthma? What was he thinking leaving his inhaler at home? What had happened earlier with Violet? Was he mad? But those questions were left to their own devices in his head. He didn't want to pry, especially now when Briton was only just beginning to look like his normal self again.

Then Briton began to apologize and Oz was stunned for a moment, confused. What… What was he apologizing for? He hadn't done anything apart from having an asthma attack, and no one could hold the against him. It was only when the halting apology continued that things clicked for Oz. Oh. Oh, Briton.

"Hey, no, don't apologize," in one fluid motions, gangly limbs and all, Oz settled himself in a seated position on the floor next to Briton's bed, gaze determinedly finding Briton's own. This seemed like the sort of conversation that needed them to be face to face, not Briton plastered to Oz's side or Oz looming over the smaller boy. "Don't apologize for that, ever. I wanted to help you, okay? I mean, I'm obviously not regretting it, so there's nothing to be sorry for. You're one of my best friends, I'd do anything for you. And, hey," He paused for a moment, leaning in closer and tugging one of Briton's hands away from his shirt and just holding it for a moment to really make the other boy look at him.

"This is not your fault. I know you don't believe me, but this really isn't. You didn't tell anyone to bully you and you didn't tell anyone to get into fights either. It's not your fault." He gave a small but genuine smile. "Besides, I'd rather be here than there. That party sucked, but don't tell Lacey that I said that."

Something or other stumbled towards her in the dark of the night. Vi tiredly shot her gaze out, wincing and groaning with every movement. Who was it? Was it - Sam, of course it was Sam. why was she even trying to hope that Nate would all of a sudden rush in and be her knight in fucking armor for once. Instead it was Sam - though at least it was better than no one, because Vic was still pretty well ready for another fight, she didn't land any good hits on the bastard, and if she was unlucky, he'd come tearing out in his filthy rage. And Vi was in to much pain to really do anything to try to defend herself at this point. With at least one other person, maybe she'd have a chance.

Doubtful, though, that Vic kicks as hard as fuck, seriously. She heard her name called out, by Sam, nonetheless, and Vi just nodded her head a bit after trying and failing to really make any sounds. The buzz at the back of her head decided at that very moment to explode, making a twin prong of agony in both her chest and her head - goddamnit what a fucking tool, why'd she have to drink so much beer, man - and she hissed in pain in response to Sam's query of if she was hurt. As he scooped her up, she felt the most peculiar sensation as her goddamned the hell rib shifted, making her go rigid in the sudden pain. Her face contorted as she tried to handle it, but failed spectacularly.

Someone else was approaching now, and Vi recognized it as Nate- of course it was, think she could ever mistake that idiotic form of his, that shape that's so loving and - goddamnit, stop going into damn fantasies and get focused on the shit at hand here. From above her, Sam shouted out to Nathan, that Violet needed help and whatnot, and then Sam went onto the ground, laying her own self gently down. She wasn't sure if she felt shitty or not about it - seriously, she was trying to avoid this sort of thing, wasn't she?

Nate, the great Nate, started shouting back in response, and by the time he came, screaming Violet's name in the most dramatic fashion possible, sliding next to her, his voice cracked, wrapping her into his arms as Sam managed to croak out in a tired voice that her rib was broken. Vi was more or less passive during this, trying not to suddenly make any stupid movements - despite her physical condition, all she could think about was how Nate had come to save her, had come to the rescue. The knight in aforementioned fucking armor. He looked positively terrified as he coo'd her name, checking her over and over - had Nate ever looked so closely at her body, let alone the boob area? She blushed even harder, not even managing a squeak as Nathan's eyes scoured over her. If only this were a completely different situation; she really didn't want people to know about super Hero Violet just yet.

Someone else arrived, apparently Charlie? Who quickly reached for his phone - goddamnit the fucking cops, why was he calling the cops? An ambulance? She didn't want to deal with this shit. Answering stupid useless questions, and the eyes clearly judging her as an outsider and thus untrustworthy. It was disgusting. She wanted to just fight her way out of this new mess. Or maybe get back into the house and let Vic and Ryan work her over. Anything was better than the damn cops. Or the hospital. Fuck. She was panicking now but only managed to make little whimpering sounds as she remembered that Nate was still holding her. Abruptly, she was moved up, and a new surge of pain suddenly struck her, making her hiss loudly, crying out in the most pathetically weak voice ever.

It was shit. It was terrible. She wanted to fight right the fuck now. But Nate was now carrying her back to the party, and hopefully this was her chance to at least set one thing right.

"Talk to me, Vi..."Nathan said, in a pleading, desperate tone. "Let me hear your voice...!"

Vi moaned a few times in response, trying to form words that made sense, anything that might've possibly made sense. It was fucking hard, and she couldn't - couldn't think, with all the buzzing in her head, the alcohol swirling around,the panic, and fucking Nate right here, holding her, carrying her, making her all fluttery and shit this didn't even make any sense anymore but eventually she settled on grinning a little at him. Might as well try to enjoy it.

"I'm... a hero." She said weakly, gritting her teeth. "They won't mess... they... fuck, Nate, they won't fuck with Briton anymore. I... fucked'em up harder than they did me, all right. I did it, didn't I?"

She gulped, still feeling drained and weak.

"I did the right thing, didn't I?"

Father ahead, the ambulance had arrived at more or less the same time, with it's wailing siren. A dark thought suddenly occured- wouldn't it be bad if she had to pay the whole hospital bill? Or if her parents found out that she'd been fighting? Taylor couldn't back her up forever, the little snot wasn't the perfect little brother, after all. This was really fucking bad, wasn't it? Vi suddenly tapped Nate's shoulder as best as she could without feeling more pain twinged throughout her body.

"Do I really need the ambulance?" She implored. "I'm fuckin' tough, I can handle this -" She winced as more agony screamed and she couldn't really continue talking. The paramedics saw her and then rushed over to carefully load her into the back of the obnoxious white vehicle. Vi, however, refused to let go of Nathan's hand, looking at him, almost begging.

"Come with me." She finally murmured, looking into his eyes; blushing furiously, as the medical people did their medical shit. "Don't wanna be alone in a fuckin' hospital when my parents get there..."

The dark trees that passed by me as I jogged down the blackened street blurred with the soft lighting from the lights nearby. It was as if I were actually running as fast as I could, despite only having been jogging slightly, so as not to hurt my currently crippled friend. My vision was almost hazy from all the worry and running that had taken place just moments ago, but I was determined to get her back. I knew Charlie and Sam had to be not far behind us, which gave me more courage, as my friends always did in times of hardship, so I used that as my fuel. Violet wasn't alone, and neither was I...

"I'm... a hero." The sound of Violet's voice suddenly hit my ears, almost surprising me, even though I had only just practically begged the girl to say something. I looked down at her face, which was half covered in shadow and the other in moonlight, with the occasional extra lighting from the streetlamps we were passing by. "They won't mess... they... fuck, Nate, they won't fuck with Briton anymore. I... fucked 'em up harder than they did me, all right. I did it, didn't I?" she said, in clear pain. I merely looked back and forth between her and the road ahead as she spoke with a pained expression. I absentmindedly shook my head and gave out an incoherent grunt before my attention was pulled back to her face once more as she repeated herself, only in a smaller voice. "I did the right thing, didn't I?"

Those words made me furrow my eyebrows as I took in the meaning behind what she was saying. She just wanted to be useful. To help her friends when they were in need. I couldn't say with honesty that she didn't do the right thing, but I couldn't entirely commend her for it either... Holding her gaze for a few seconds longer than before, I looked back ahead again.

"I don't know..." I said, finally. I paused for a moment before continuing, balancing my thoughts on her question with that of the current situation. "What you did was stupid, but... I don't think it was 'wrong'." Giving the empty air a quick smirk at the irony in my own words, I berated myself in turn. "Then again, what I did was pretty damn stupid, too..." I gave her a final look as I knew the party was drawing closer to us upon noticing the lights. "You just did what you thought needed to be done, and I can't fault you for that..." Giving the small girl a warm smile, I squeezed her shoulder affectionately, finally looking back up at the front lawn of the house the party was being held at. A sigh of relief escaped my lungs as I slowed to more of a power walk upon seeing a new set of flashing lights; an ambulance. Good. What wasn't good, however, was the police car that was also flashing its lights just beside the ambulance. I already predicted this, but it still sent a shiver down my spine at the thought of what might happen to my remaining friends that were still inside that damn house... Of course, this was a small town, and there was only one car with two officers present, so at most, the likely scenario would have been a simple breaking up of the party, resulting in many teenagers who were obviously far too young to be drinking being forced to flee the scene. Good thing our local law enforcement was generally rather lenient over small stuff like this. But that was just the small stuff...

"Over here!" I shouted at the paramedics, finally coming to a halt just past the front lawn. Of course, that was when Violet tapped my shoulder as gentle as a small child might have done, stealing my attention once more. I merely smiled wryly at her protests of going to the hospital as she couldn't even fully get out her speech regarding how tough she was. "Tough you may be, you're still made of flesh and blood." I said in response just as the paramedics rushed up to meet me, taking Violet out of my arms, save for the one hand she managed to keep tightly clutched with my own, pulling me along with her as she was strapped into the stretcher. Before they loaded her into the back of the ambulance, however, Violet managed to mutter a single request.

"Come with me." she said. Don't wanna be alone in a fuckin' hospital when my parents get there..." All I could do was smile at her and rub my thumb on the back of her small hand as she pleaded with me, finally resulting in me telling her what I had already planned on doing.

"Of course I'm coming with you." I said without hesitation. "If I don't, then who's gonna stop you from trying to escape?" Giving her another smile, I turned my head to the paramedic beside me, giving him a look that said "It's alright, isn't it?", upon which he simply nodded and continued with loading Violet into the ambulance, followed by me, still holding onto the girl's hand. Now sitting down on the small bench-like seat that was beside Violet's stretcher, the doors slammed shut beside us. The paramedic who was also sitting in the back along with us was going over his routine care for the injured as Violet and I continued holding hands. The ambulance didn't waste any time leaving the party, and it wasn't long before we were in motion. I looked down at my friend, who was looking back up at me in turn. I let my gaze fall to the floor as I decided to scold her somewhat after all.

"Hey..." I began, my voice soft, unlike how it was only a few minutes ago. "I know I said that I couldn't fault you for what you did, but..." I paused, looking back up at her, worry clearly on my face. "You're not...a super hero, Violet... You're a 17-year-old girl who shouldn't be..." I paused again, remembering we weren't alone as I eyed the paramedic before blinking back to Violet. "...taking matters into her own hands all the time. I understand that you wanna help the people you love, but there are just some problems that one person can't hope to solve on their own..." What I was saying, despite instantly sounding rather hypocritical to myself, was true. But the difference between what I did and what she did was that I wasn't alone when I made my mistake. I had Oz to help me in case things got especially nasty. She was a young girl who was alone with two violent guys-- guys who made it an effort to take whatever they want, whenever they wanted it, and without any regards to other people and their wishes. If it hadn't been for Briton seeing her go off with them; Sam chasing after her before I did; Charlie following after me... Who knows how bad it would have been. "You can rely on your friends to help you, Vi... Trust me when I say...you're not alone..." I said with a smile as I gripped her hand more firmly. "Alright?" At the time, I didn't realize how ironic it was for me to be feeding someone else such a line. However, the insight that came with it would one day reach me... Only...in the form of another person's words. Someone truly important to me... But we've still got a ways to go before that particular moment.

---

Charlie watched Violet be loaded into the ambulance and Nate hop in after.

A relieved smile found its way on Charlie's face as he placed his hands on his head. She was going to be okay, Violet was going to be okay, he let out a gust of air.

Charlie glanced behind him to see teenagers pouring from the house and scattering in every direction.

Crap, he would definitely be buzzkill of the year, along with the biggest loser, and probably would never be invited to a party for the rest of his natural born life. Also second crap because he didn't have a ride. The police were here and he did not need to be taken to jail for under age drinking. He was pretty sure Briton had left and he had no idea where any of his friends were, so he was basically up the stream without a paddle, unless he could somehow run out of here, which he could probably do, but he would most likely be the last one to the hospital and he was still tired from running with Nate.

"Hey son!" Charlie turned to see an older police officer wobbling towards him, seeming in no big rush to get to him.

Now he probably should have stayed and heard what the police officer had to say, he probably now looked guilty for whatever reason, but he took off anyway, his legs taking him the opposite direction of the man, before his brain had even caught up to what he was doing.

He kept running until he could barely make out the sound of the sirens, his body running on pure adrenaline unlike when he had been following Nate. He gradually slowed his run into a jog until he was walking again, sometimes peering over his shoulder to check for any signs of flashing lights.

He was alone.

The streets seemed more empty than they actually were, as the dim streetlights overhead lulled Charlie into an exhausted state. A gentle chill blew past him as loneliness set in.

He was alone, when it all came down to it he was alone.

Of course he wasn't truly alone, he would pass houses with the t.v. still flickering or a light upstairs still on, but mentally he was alone.

Charlie shoved his hands in his pockets, how had he ended up walking alone in the dark again.

It was a domino effect maybe, starting when Sam had left him, staggering around somewhere in search of someone else, someone who wasn't the loud obnoxious, self-centered blonde. Even in his dazed state Sam had chosen not to be in the company of Charlie.

Violet and Nate were in the ambulance on their way to the hospital. He hadn't gotten asked to ride in the ambulance. But maybe he was just being selfish now. Still no one had even bothered to ask Charlie to come with them. It seemed like no one ever did. Not when Charlie had forced his way into Briton's home or when he randomly followed Nate. He had done it by his own will.

Charlie ran a hand through his hair and looked up at the dark sky, the stars were begging to come out, almost out shinning the dull moon.

The beauty of the view made him think of Briton, which made him think of Oz, and how they were probably off somewhere enjoying their time together. Without Charlie, without the pest who had first brought up Briton's knee and ultimately doomed Violet. Had Briton even thought about him, he was Charlie's ride and without him he had left him deserted-. Charlie stopped mid-thought and stopped walking, instantly reaching for his phone. Crap, he hadn't even called to make sure if Briton was okay. What if he hadn't been able to start breathing, what if...but just seeing Oz hovering over Briton and them...them touching. Charlie could feel his insides turning and his blood start to boil again, as jealousy wove it's fingers around his heart. His finger hovered over the call button that would hopefully end up in hearing Briton's voice. He didnt need to call him, Briton was with Oz. Knowing the caring, kind and lovable Oscar Glass, Briton was fine. More than fine.

Charlie shook his head and started walking again. He needed to stop thinking about them, about him. Briton had started clouding his thoughts, and it was kind of getting hard to think straight.

He was alone again as his thoughts ceased. Alone without a ride. And without anyone knowing where he was if he suddenly were to drop dead.

But who could he blame really but himself for being alone? Charlie's thoughts drifted to all the girls hearts he had broken. The ones who he had told he loved them just to get in their pants, and how alone they must have felt after seeing him in the hallways with another girl.

He thought of his dad who was probably out somewhere gambling, partying or passed out drunk somewhere. The guy wouldn't care or even notice if Charlie came home or not.

Charlie kicked a rock sending it flying across the street before it hit the bumper of a car and bounced off.

Dammit he hated being alone. He hated everything about the feeling, how it could way down on you until it crushed you. Just the way this stinky old town did. He would never get of here, he already knew it. He would rot and die in this town. Alone without his "friends" who would leave and probably forget about him. His mind went over his short life, and what he had become.

He had become nothing, his grades were sometimes average, but maybe only on a good year, because it was cool to skip school and not turn in your homework and he had better things to do than study. He wasnt going to college because he was too cool. Wow did that sound stupid. Too cool. Hopefully he wasn't too cool for 'would you like fries with that.'

He was even that friend. The friend who was usually just invited so that no one felt guilty about not inviting the person. Did anyone truly want him there? It didn't seem like anyone was really psyched whenever he showed up, he didnt remember ever having Amber or Sam calling him to hang out. Nope, but what did it matter. He didnt need his friends. They obviously didnt need him. Look here he was walking down the street alone feeling sorry for himself, and basically crying because no one wanted to hang out with him. How pathetic. He needed to stop worrying about what his friends thought. He wasn't weak.

"Hey Charlie!" Charlie turned to see a car coming towards him. "Hey Charlie you need a ride?" The car pulled up beside him, revealing his friend Mike hanging out the window and the girl from earlier at the party in the passenger seat, along with two people he couldn't identify in the back.

"Uhh sure." Charlie muttered hopping into the backseat. The car pulled off. "Hey can you drop me off at the hospital?"

"Why do you need to go there?" The girl beside him asked blowing a bubble with her gum.

Charlie shrugged, he didnt want to say too much and then have them figure out he was the one who ruined the party.

"Hey do you guys even know who called the cops?" The girl in the front seat asked turning around and peering at the people behind her.

"Probably a cranky neighbor." Mike huffed turning down a street.

"Well actually I heard Oz did it." The words tumbled out of Charlie's mouth before he even realized what he was doing.

"Oz...?.." Mike repeated seeming confused.

"Yeah Oscar Glass, tall..uhh dark blonde hair."

"Oh I know who your talking about," The girl beside him nodded. "Yeah too bad he's a buzzkill I actually thought he was cute."

"Man are you kidding, I have to tell Vanessa, she said she was going to kill whoever called the cops. Guess what, she brought her little brother, something about her parents making her babysit, but anyway he was in the bathroom when everyone ditched, including her. Can you believe that she left her own brother." The girl in the front seat laughed and turned around, whipping out her phone and begging to type out the message.

Charlie was almost about to tell the girl to stop, to tell her no don't call Vanessa he couldn't do that to Oz, he would no likely be on everyone's hate list for a while, but the thought of Oz and Briton clouded his mind again, so he sat back and looked out the window. She could tell anyone she liked.

The hospital came into view the car slowed in front of the entrance of the building.

"Thanks for the ride." Charlie called getting out of the car and heading into the building.