Chapter 5 No! It Can't Be!

My eyes widen. Celine yelps in surprise as Jonathan's face moves to the side from the impact of Alistair's fist.

What has he done?!

Jonathan only smirks and wipes off the blood on his nose. Then his smirk turns into a full-blown laugh.

'I'm tired of you treating everyone like they're beneath you. Especially Seraphina,' Alistair barks, but Jonathan keeps laughing like a maniac.

'Oh, you've outdone yourself, Partridge,' he says and stands straight. Then he lands a punch on Alistair's nose. And again, and again. He kept throwing repeated punches in his face.

Celine stands and tries to calm both of them, but they don't listen. I tried to stand, and I fortunately did, but my legs hurt, but then I stand up. 'Jonathan!' I call out in a loud voice, limping like a kid till I am next to him. He seems to listen because he stops his eyes widening. Then Celine rushes to grab Alistair, moving him away from there.

'This isn't over, Alistair, I will deal with you!' Jonathan says and pushes me to the wheelchair, grab the handles and push me away from there.

Right then, my head suddenly begins to ring and I stop to hold it. The sound becomes so loud that I can't bear it anymore. I crouch on my chair and cry out, using my free working hand that wasn't on needles to grip my hair.

'What's going on?' He asks, crouching down with me and holding my shoulders. 'Seraphina? Seraphina!' He calls, but I hear his voice fade into the background because I can't hear or feel. It just hurts, so, so much.

I find myself back in my room when I was a kid, the sky dark and I'm crouched beside my bed, curling myself into a ball. Then he staggers into the room, looking around, yelling my name at the top of his voice. Then he finds me and shouts at me, telling me why I didn't answer when he called. He grabs my hand and strikes my face with the back of his palm. Then he tells me to be a good girl, fisting my hair into his palm, grabbing me. Then he beats me well. I yell for Mother, but she is busy downstairs, eating popcorn and watching an episode of Breaking Bad. I can hear the background noises of the movie from my room. He tears off my clothes and tells me to be a good little bitch, then he climbs on top of me...

'You're okay, you're okay,' the voice stops. 'God, this is so ridiculous. It's okay,' I feel someone caressing my hair, whispering into my head. I feel my breathing become calm a little as I open my eyes sharply. The world around me is blurred and I close my eyes back to adjust. I open them again and then my surroundings come into focus. I see Jonathan by the door of my ward on his phone. I notice I'm still in the hospital, back in my ward.

I could have sworn I heard his voice just now telling me that it was going to be okay. How the hell did he get there so fast?

'What happened?' I groan as I try to sit.

'Stay.' He says, pocketing his phone and striding towards my bed. I try to sit up but then I notice there's an oxygen mask on my face.

'You were suddenly screaming and you passed out. Then you started screaming as soon as you woke up. What the hell is with you and screaming today?' He questions and raises a brow at me.

'I was?' I lean back on the bed, feeling an odd wave of relief wash through me with him in the same room as me.

'Did something happen to you, Seraphina?' He suddenly asks, sitting by the bed, his brows furrowing.

I look at him. Okay, what's going on? Why is he acting weird? Pity. Of course. He is pitying me. And I hate it. I hate being pitied. The look on his eyes says-

'Why do you ask? Of course, something happened to me. I had an accident,' I say coolly, subtly dragging my hospital gown down my arm so I could cover the injuries that are beginning to peek out. Seems like the concealer is fading off. His eyes flicker towards my movement, and then he shrugs.

'Fair enough,' he says, leaning back.

'Where's my mom?' I ask. Not like I was expecting her anyway, all she does is disappoint and disappear, then reappear when convenient.

He does not answer me and leans back in his chair. Then silence follows-an awkward silence.

'Why are you suddenly being nice to me?' I suddenly blurt before I can stop myself.

His face carries an amused look.

'I'm being nice to you?' He scoffs. 'Of course, I am. Because I have no choice. My old man would cut my credit card if I didn't stay here with you, so here I am. You know for a fact I don't want to be anywhere around you. You know that more than anybody,' he says. I shrug.

Fair enough. But I don't understand why he hates me so much.

'Why do you hate me so much, Jonathan?' I blurt out stsring ahead at the television. The dull ache in my throat makes it difficult for me to swallow. Mr. Hill must have asked them to put it in there. The television. Perks of being rich.

Then I glance at him and watch his expression change. Then he quickly masks it with a smirk.

'Do I need to have a reason to hate someone?'

'Yes.'

I shrug and stare at the television to see the news. What I see makes my eyes water and my throat dry. There, I see him. I see his picture.

'...a forty-nine-year-old man charged for assault has shown an exceptional change in his behaviour and because of that, the government has decided to reduce his one-year sentence to two months.'