Ruin Read Free

strength. A fire ignites in the engine as I hover over her body and unbuckle her seat belt. Only when I try to pull her away and lift her up in my arms do I notice how awkwardly her leg wobbles.
    Smoke enters the car.
    I don’t hesitate as I pull her away from the fire and walk with her lifeless body in my arms, stumbling across the road. When I’m far enough that the fire won’t hurt us, I stop. I place her on the ground and take a few deep breaths. Tears sting my eyes; I cough from the smoke, and I can’t see shit. Only after blinking a few times do I look up at the wreckage in front of me.
    The wreckage that’s also beneath me … The girl.
    Now that I finally have the chance to take a proper look at her, I notice something.
    I know her.
    The girl from my school.
    That girl … the one girl who was always shy but never afraid to smile.
    Broken in pieces.
    I suck in a breath and tell myself to man up and forget about it for now. She’s in trouble, and she needs help.
    She’s not conscious, so I immediately go to my knees and check for a pulse. It’s faint, but it’s there. For a moment, I panic and the thought of running flashes through my head.
    But no matter how many times my brain tells me I’m a coward and thinks I should just give up … I can’t.
    I need to help.
    So I grab my cell phone and call 911.
     

These Bones Were Made for Walking
     

     
    Maybell
     
     
    Beeps.
    Alarm clocks going off in my head.
    My hand swats at the nightstand, but I miss.
    No matter how many times I try, I miss.
    Someone grabs my hand. Squeezes tight. Releases me.
    My arm feels so weak I can barely move it. I’ve never been this tired in my life.
    Especially considering I’m supposed to wake up.
    Right?
    That’s why my alarm clock is beeping.
    But the more I think about it, the more I start to realize I never got into bed, so how could I be in there now?
    I take a breath, and my lungs feel so tight and painful, it makes me cough.
    “Take it easy,” a guy nearby me says.
    A guy. Funny. I never bring guys back home.
    Wait, what?
    I force my eyes to open, and through tiny slits, I see a blond, shorthaired dude walking next to me, his hands on the rails of my bed. But I don’t have any rails on my bed.
    With skittish eyes, I check my surroundings, only to discover I’m not in my room at all.
    I’m not even home.
    “Where …” I mutter, but my voice is clamped.
    “Hi, Maybell?” The guy next to me looks me directly in the eye. “You’re at the hospital.”
    Hospital.
    That place where the sick get treated and the wounded are mended.
    That place I only ever visited to see my grandma after her surgery, and even then, I shivered at the sight of the building.
    The place where people’s hopes are lost and dreams have to be rebuilt.
    The place I now am.
    “Hospital?” I repeat, trying to understand.
    “Yes, you’re in the hospital,” the guy says.
    I swallow, but my sore throat won’t let me, and I cough up the slime. My body feels cold and not like mine as the guy pushes my bed through the white-walled hallways, bright lights blinding me every five seconds as all I can do is stare up at the ceiling.
    That’s when I realize I’m strapped tight.
    “What happened?”
    He frowns and rubs his lips together as we go into a different room. “You were in an accident.”
    Accident.
    The word echoes over and over in my ears, but it doesn’t register.
    Tears well up in my eyes. “Accident?”
    I don’t remember anything.
    Why don’t I remember? Why am I even here?
    “Yes, you drove your car into a wall.”
    My eyes widen. “What?”
    “You don’t remember?”
    “No.” The tight strap cuts into my skin as I try to move.
    Then a sharp pain runs through my lower leg, so sharp it makes me scream.
    “Don’t move,” he says, placing a hand over mine. “You don’t wanna make it worse.”
    “Make what worse?” I flinch, and the pain shoots through my leg again. “Oh God, that hurt,” I cry out, clutching the