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The Bridge(Chapter 15, part two after this will come in whole!)

The Bridge(Chapter 15, part two after this will come in whole!)

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Published by Kasie Leigh
Chapter Fifteen of the novel, The Bridge. After this chapter, I'm posting part two. This is part of part two, I just want to assure everyone I'm still writing and get some feed back. =D
Chapter Fifteen of the novel, The Bridge. After this chapter, I'm posting part two. This is part of part two, I just want to assure everyone I'm still writing and get some feed back. =D

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Published by: Kasie Leigh on Dec 30, 2009
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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12/29/2009

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Chapter FifteenJoey’s ‘episode’ as it was politely referred to,(what was the impolite wayto say it?), ended him up in ‘solitary’ as it was un-politely referred to.I, though, had ended up in the medical section of the hospital, to bephysically and emotionally evaluated after having been part of Joey’s ‘episode’.And some of the tests they ran were downright uncomfortable. Physically, andemotionally, or whatever.By the time I was let back to my section of the hospital it was late intothe night and everyone was in bed. I walked down the girls hallway and was halfwaydown the hallway when I heard a sort of choking-sob coming from behind a door.I paused at the door. Would it be impolite to intrude? Well, it was amedical center, which meant no locks on the doors, which meant either I found outwhat was going on with whoever was behind there, or a doctor did, and whoopsie,bye-bye patient, off to ‘solitary’.I opened the door and let it swing open. There was a girl on the bed by thewindow, sleeping soundly, and then there was the other girl. The one closest tome, on the front bed. The girl I knew.It was Wyatt. She had hers knees hugged to her chest, her arms wrappedaround them. She was rocking back and forth, crying and sobbing.I dropped on my knees by her bed and tentatively reached out my hand.Her head whipped around to face me. She looked at me, with a painedexpression on her face. And growled. Growled.I backed up and looked down the hall. There was no one in it. I didn’t wantto wake anyone up, but Wyatt needed help. Bad.I looked at her one last time, then sprinted down the hall and into the mainroom. I pounded on the reception desk. When someone came out, I yelled franticallyat them.They tried to calm me down, and I knew if I didn’t, it would be worse for mein the end. I slowed down my slur of words and said my next three very carefully.“Wyatt. Room. Crying.”.The nurse looked at me strangely, then, understanding me, a horrifiedexpression came over her face. She ran down the hallway.I followed her. I stopped short of the room when I heard a crash and ascream. There was much confusion after that. Doctors came, people awoke and walkedinto the hall, cursing about the time of night.I started to hyperventilate, feeling claustrophobic. I leaned against thewall and clutched my chest. I don’t know how, but I made it to my room at sometime of the night.I sat on my bed, and stared out the window. I breathed deeply, trying to ridmyself of my urgent need to cut. I was shaking. Was it withdrawal? Possibly. Ihadn’t known I was that dependent on it.And then I thought more deeply about it. When I had started cutting- it hadbeen for the pain. Then it had turned to the rush I felt at doing something sobad, it had turned to me doing it just to do it for a few seconds of dizziness, toconcentrate on the pain and all that. Then seeing the blood. That was what reallyset me off.I shuddered, trying not to think about it. I leaned back on my bed andstared at the ceiling. What happened to Wyatt had really shaken me. What if Iended up like that? Crying in my room, no one to really care, everyone being soused to it, basically.Tears sprang to my eyes, but I held them back. There was no reason to cry,except that my life was so amazingly stupid, my best friends weren’t making muchof an effort to be there for me, and I was completely emotionally unstable. Yeah,no reason.I lay there like that for awhile. Crying, thinking, stopping crying,thinking, restarting crying, thinking. It was an annoying process.I must have fallen asleep sometime. And it wasn’t a restful sleep. I dreamt

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