Prelude

Leslie P.O.V.

He stood amidst the angry sea of red and white lights, ignoring my effort to get him back to the only safe patch of green. He slowly turned and faced me with out any emotion….then it happened. I didn't wait for the light to go red to go to him. Drivers honked and cursed at me to get out of the way.

I woke in a white room with get well cards hanging on the wall with a couple of balloons. I heard a steady beeping sound. I couldn't move anything on the left side of my body and I was stiff and sore. Then it came back. The image of what was left of my older brother Mark. The two bloody sneakers with two bloody socks and two bloody feet. Then the feeling of weightlessness, the top of a sedan flying into my vision growing bigger and then nothing.

A nurse came into the room with a cart with bottles of pain killers. "How are we feeling today" she asked. I try to answer back but my mouth was swollen shut and my tongue felt like a ball of cotton. She saw me trying to say something and said "Leslie, you have been in a coma for a year and a half. You were lucky to survive. You were driven here by some guy in a black sedan with a dented roof and a broken rear window. He stopped by every day to see how you were. The cops are still looking for the guy who hit you." I could only nod my head a little in acknowledgment but even that action hurt. "Your parents were here twenty minuets ago." I passed out five seconds later after that.

The sun was streaming in the window and shining in my eyes. I raised my left arm to block the light and to my surprise the cast on it was gone; I didn't smell the sterile smell you usually get in a hospital, but of the sweet smell of pancakes and the pine scented air. I slowly got out of the bed and got dressed. I opened the door and found stairs leading down so I followed them as the smell of pancakes got stronger. As I walked down the hallway I passed doors that were closed and I knew that the smells of pancakes were not coming from behind any of them. I kept going in till I found my self in a kitchen. A boy around the same age as my brother made room for me at a table. I quickly sat down. At once I was bombarded with questions from five kids which I guess are his little brothers and sister. The guy told them to go outside. My adopted 'rents walked in and sat across from me with the guy.

His name was "Will" he said. I asked if it was short for William, but he said no. I told him my name. He said he was 18, so I was right that he was around my adopted brother's age which would be 19 if he was still alive (which means all you readers owe me five bucks.) I told him I was 17. Hearing my stomach growl he asked if I was hungry, which I was. (You would be to if for a year and half you were fed by an intervenes drip.) My dad asked Will if it was alright if I stayed until I recovered some my strength. He said his dad wouldn't mind. My dad looked at me and I said okay. He told me that Auntie Veronica was very sick and that they were going to visit her. (She lives in Quebec.) "Tell her I said hi," I asked and Will said "tell her I hope she gets well soon."

They left Will and I (woo so sophisticated for a mutant bird kid when I've hardly ever said please and thanks.) As they went to pack I went to their room which Will lead the way and asked them to bring me something back from Quebec.

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