It was pitch black in the cell. No wait, that's an understatement. There was not one lick of light anywhere, and it was cold. So cold. But it wasn’t the type of cold you get from being in the dark. It’s different. So I wrapped my arms around my shoulders to keep myself warm. I sat down in the far corner of the room from the door. Across from the Static night-vision camera so Aaron and Billy can keep an eye on me. Soon, I had laid down on the dirty floor, and fell asleep.
( A/N: This part will be in the third person point of view, limited, which will mean the narrator knows the thoughts and feelings of one character.)
As Billy, Zak and Aaron were up stairs, Billy checks on Dawn on his device. One second, she’s totally fine. But, the next, she was twitching uncontrollably and violently.
“Aaron, call an ambulance,” Billy says, starting for the stairs.
“What?” Aaron exclaims. Zak looks at them confused.
“It’s Dawn, she’s having a seizure!” Billy yells. Aaron and Zak jump up from their spots. “Zak, the keys! It’s locked! Go! Run!” They run to the basement, nearly tripping over their own feet.
“What’s going on you guys? Why is she having a seizure?” Zak asked, trying to unlock the cell door.
“Diana and I saw this movie, the boy in it was having the same symptoms as Dawn was having: headaches, ringing ears, and an eventual seizure which put him in the hospital,” Billy explains hurriedly. “Somebody get Jay out of there! JAY!”
“What? What’s happening?” Dawn’s uncle asked from the next cell. Aaron was on the phone with 911, and Billy was opening the door to Dawn’s cell. So Zak went and unlocked Jay’s cell. Inside, Billy noticed she was still twitching.
“They’re on their way here right now,” Aaron says. “I’ll call the owner to let us out pronto.”
“What’s going o-DAWN!” Jay exclaimed, rushing to her side. He whips out his phone and starts to dial Ashley.
“Jay? What’s wrong? You never call during an investigation,” Ashley was worried.
“It-it’s Dawn, she-she’s having a seizure!” He tells her, fighting back tears. This was worse than the day he and his friend used the Ouija board and he almost got stabbed. (Possibly.)
“WHAT?!” Ashley exclaims over the phone.
“Get here quick!”
“I’m on my way!” Ashley tells him.
(A/N: Back to Dawn’s point of view at the hospital when she wakes up)
My eyes fluttered open and I groaned at the smell of the antiseptic of the hospital. There was a bandage wrapped around my head. I knew where I was. I know what happened, and I know what’s wrong with me. Uncle Jay had his head down on the hospital bed, holding my smaller hand. We’ve always had a connection, him and I. I felt tears start to form in my eyes.
“Uncle Jay,” I say hoarsely. He lifts his head. “I’m so sorry.” He stands up and hugs me, and I hug back tightly. I could tell he’s starting to cry as well. “I-it’s my fault.”
“Shh, don’t talk, please,” he whispers. The tears finally fell down my cheeks and I started sobbing.
“I-I didn’t w-want to worry you g-guys and n-not have me go on th-the invest-igation,” I cried. “I-I’m sorry.”
“Dawn Darko Wasley you have no reason to be sorry,” He scolds, holding back the tears. “I get why you didn’t tell us. I get why you didn’t want us to worry. Don’t ever be sorry for something you didn’t cause.” He lifts his head from mine.
“I know wh-what’s wrong w-with me,” I say. “I kn-know I’m not g-going to live m-much longer.” He sets his hand on my cheek to wipe away my tears.
“Don’t say that, Dawn,” he scolded softly.
“N-No, I saw that movie with Bryce, The Book of Henry,” I told him. “H-he died from the same causes: headaches, ringing ears, getting hospitalized, then death! I kn-know, Uncle Jay, I know h-how it will end. It’ll end too soon.” Uncle Jay was hesitant to reply to my explanation which gave the doctor time to clear his throat. Slowly, we turned to him.
“Mr. Wasley, Miss Wasley, I believe you should know what’s going on.” He says.
“I know what it is, sir,” I told him. “There is a tumor in my brain and it is affecting me badly.” The doctor was baffled, almost.
“Well, Miss Wasley, it’s not just any tumor, it…” He trails off, sadly. I locked eyes with my uncle for a moment, nervously. “It’s a cancerous tumor.” My breath hitched in my throat, which was burning from the act of holding back tears.
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To Be continued...
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