Help Me! Please. - [1] - Intro

At that moment I felt my mouth drop. "What?!" I screamed at his face. "You were trying to make a move on me, you frikken perv! You were trying to rape me!" I roared. He sat there patiently, smiling innocently as I continued my rant.

When I was done I felt dizzy and was out of breath. I turned to my mom to see her reaction. I guess I expected her to kick him out of the house for good and we would live happily ever after. I don't think I could have been more wrong. My mom had tears in her eyes, and said "Mark, how exactly did you save my baby's life?".

Mark chuckled. "Well it was nothing really. I saw her come down stairs and I asked her how she was feeling. She said she was okay, but I didn't believe her. She left to go her room, and I waited a few minutes, thinking about whether or not I should check on her. I decideded that I should because her bump WAS big. I opened the door and saw her laying there, and I figured she was sleeping. But her back wasn't moving. Then the realization hit that she wasn't breathing. I rolled her over and tried chest compressions. I put my ear to her chest to see if she had a heart beat. Thankfully she did. And then I used two more compressions and checked for breathing. And as I sat up, you walked in." Mark finished his story seeming so sincere I almost believed him. No. He didn't save my life. But I thought his story through, and spotted one flaw. I was thrashing while he was on me. I looked at my mom again to see if she had noticed. Nope. Not at all.

My mom ran up to Mark and tried to hug him, but his massive belly prevented mom from reaching all the way around. I don't know what happened then. I remember running towards Mark, and my face falling towards the floor.

I woke up in a very, very, very boring room. And I heard beeping. Beep. Beep. Beep. I looked past my feet. Great. I'm in a hospital. I really hate hospitals, ever since I was 4 and had to get a shot. 13 years of fear. I huffed and debated on ripping my IV out. Probably not a good idea....I don't need a huge mess to be made. Why do I have an IV anyway? I'm not seriously hurt am I. Time passed so slowly in that boring room. Click. The door opened and there were three people standing there. A very handsome doctor, who looked about 20 and had amazing blue eyes and not to mention abs. You could see it, even through his clothes. Next to him was blubber man. And my mom. "Hi mom." I said weakly. I just glared at Mark, and smiled at the doctor. "Doc, whats wrong with me? I feel fine." I lied. My head was pound so hard it hurt to think. "Well," he said, his voice velvet smooth. "From the MRI results, you've got some head damage. It's not severe, but definately not minor. We're going to keep you another day for futher tests." The doctor turned and left. My mom broke down crying as soon as the door clicked. I tried to console her, but she just continued in cry babble. "B-but....whaiff...serrias d-damage?" she tried to say. "Mom, don't worry. He said it wasn't that bad. I'm going to be fine." I said to her as if she was a child who lost their parent in the grocery store. I unwillingly looked up at Mark signalling to take her home. He nodded and tried to convince her to go home. Eventually she left and managed to choke out a"bye". I smiled and returned the favor.

I rolled onto my side and drifted onto a deep dreamless sleep.