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"How's Easton doing?" Charlie asked, taking a seat beside me.

Rubbing my face, I sighed. "He broke his arm."

We are currently in a hospital where Easton's inside one of the rooms, having his arm all wrapped up.

The white walls and white tiled place made my headache, the smell of alcohol makes me want to puke, the some-slutty-white dressed nurse annoys me and the bright light keeps me awake.

If you haven't figured it out yet, I hate hospitals. I mean, there's just something about the people there. I'm not talking about ghosts or anything, but I am talking about the people who act like one. I pity them for having to go through life like that. Bringing that weight in their shoulders. Losing a loved one, I mean. I'm one of those extremely rare people who has never lost anyone really important. Well, to the other world, I mean. My grandma died when I was young, my mom told me that we were really close but I couldn't feel it. Like I guess I was young, but still... i cried when she died, but
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