The Hide and Seek Game That Lasted a Lifetime novel Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The nights in Crestwood were unforgiving—cold and lonely, with a biting wind that seemed to seep through every thread of my thin jacket. I shivered beneath the scant warmth it provided, the chill gnawing at my bones as I lay on the hard ground. Sleep was restless and fleeting; several times I woke, teeth chattering, eyes stinging from the cold air. Above me, the villa’s windows glowed brightly, casting sharp pools of light onto the frost-covered lawn, a stark contrast to my bleak surroundings.

As the first pale hues of dawn crept over the horizon, I was abruptly pulled from my uneasy slumber by the sound of laughter—harsh, cruel, and mocking. I raised my head just in time to see a stone hurtling through the air, striking my forehead with a sharp crack. Warm blood trickled down, splattering onto the frozen earth beneath me.

Around me, a group of kids my age gathered, their faces twisted with morbid fascination. They began pelting me with stones, their voices full of sneers and taunts.

“Where did that monster come from?” one sneered.

Liam, standing taller than the rest, lifted his chin arrogantly and glanced me over with disdain. “Dad found her on the street. Probably no one wanted her.”

Another voice piped up, “What about her parents?”

Liam spat the word like venom. “She’s a bastard. Doesn’t have any parents.”

The word “bastard” struck me like a dagger, piercing deep into my heart. My throat tightened, and I tried to defend myself, voice trembling, “I do have parents! My dad is James Miller, and my mom is—”

But before I could finish, Liam lunged at me with brutal force. His foot crashed into my eye socket with a sickening crunch that echoed painfully in my skull. White-hot agony exploded through my head, blinding me instantly.

“Shut up! They’re my parents! They want nothing to do with a bastard like you!” he hissed.

Blood poured down my face, sealing my injured eye shut and blurring the terrified expressions of the others. The pain was unbearable, and my legs gave out beneath me as I collapsed to my knees, my body trembling uncontrollably.

Around me, the jeers and screams faded into a distant hum. My consciousness wavered, teetering on the edge of darkness.

In that hazy moment, I heard footsteps approaching—urgent and heavy. A shadow loomed over me, and I felt a strong hand cup my bloodied face. A faint glimmer of light cut through the thick veil of dried blood.

“Significant blood loss,” a voice said, clinical and calm. “Preliminary assessment suggests an eye injury. Without immediate medical attention, the damage could be permanent…”

“Just get her to the hospital. Do whatever it takes to save her,” another voice ordered firmly.

“Kid, where are your parents?” he asked.

Still dazed and confused, I could only stare back blankly.

The doctor frowned, placed a report on the table, and said quietly, “Tell your parents you have a tumor. It’s already begun to spread. They need to come see me as soon as you get home.”

He paused at the doorway, then turned back, his face grave. “Stay calm. Don’t make your mom and dad worry.”

The word “tumor” was foreign to me, its meaning lost in the fog of my thoughts. But the last part—the plea to stay calm—resonated deeply.

I stared at the paper for a long moment, then folded it carefully and slipped it into my pocket, my heart heavy.

“But I’m a bastard,” I whispered to myself, the word still burning like acid. “No one would worry about me.”