t w e n t y - t h r e e

 

Three months.

It has been three months since I got out of the hospital and Cameron has not given me trouble.

I sit on the curb in my wheel chair with Kyle, Woody, and Will sitting below me on the cement. We all sit in silence as we watch the cars pass.

Woody suddenly jumps up and starts wheeling me away with Will and Kyle following behind, "Wow. What's wrong?" I ask, confused.

"We just saw Cam's black van." Will mutters. I nod, keeping quiet as we hide in the brush. We watch the van slowly inch down the street before turning the corner.

"I am so done with this bullshit, Dan. Why did you have to get yourself into trouble with that asshole?" Kyle asks with an annoyed tone.

Ignoring him, I roll down the street as my cell phone rings in my pocket, "Hello?"

"Hey, Dan!"

"Darcy?"

"Ya...what's wrong?"

"It's just really hard to talk to you since you got your memory back." I tell her, looking down, upset. She's silent for a while.

"Come over?" She asks as if ignoring my statement. I smirk at her question.

"Sure, Darcy. I'll be right there." I slide my phone back into my pocket and roll off, without saying good bye.

"Hey, Daniel! Where do you think you're going?!" Will shouts.

"Darcy's." I reply simpily, and I keep moving down the street.

- - - - - - - - - -

The doorbell rings as I wait silently on the porch. Footsteps are to be heard coming somewhere from inside the house. The door opens slowly as Darcy peaks her head out, "Hi, babe!" She says cheerfully. Babe? That's the first time I heard her call me babe since she retrieved her memory.

"Um...hey."

"Well. Are you going to come in?"

"Ya, I guess." I slowly make my way inside the house as I take my first look at it for a while.

"So, I invited you over because a friend of mine was really interested in writing a song with you! His celeberty name is Grades. He's in the kitchen and has a song ready for you." I nod along to what Darcy was saying as I head into the kitchen to see a man sitting at the kitchen table. He turns around and as his eyes meet mine he smiles.

"Daaaan! Nice to meet ya, buddy!" I greets me warmly, taking me into a hug.

"Hey." I mutter back, slightly not amused by how friendly he was.

"So, here are the lyrics. The song is called 'Torn Apart', and I thought yohr voice woukd be hella good for this-" Suddenly, he was cut off as the windows suddenly shatter and gunshota echo through the house.

"Shit," I whisper under my breathe, looking at a window, wide eyed, "EVERYONE UNDER THE TABLE, NOW!" I shout, reaching for the backpack that was strapped onto yhe back of my wheelchair. Pulling out my metal prosthetic leg, I unfold it, place it on my leg, and pull out a hand gun out of my pack. Looking around the corner, I wait until I hear the gun shots stop, then I head towards the front door. When I open it, a gun meets my head.