Deprived (Broken Crystals Rewrite)

de·prive verb (used with object), de·prived, de·priv·ing. 1. to remove or withhold something from the enjoyment or possession of (a person or persons): to deprive a girl of life;


2. Chapter 2


"Is she awake?" The muffled sound of someone's voice causes me to try and stir.

"Her eyelids are fluttering," A deep voice adds.

"Get the nurse," A third states in a worried tone.

I didn't recognise any of these voices and this scared me even more.

 Where am I?

I strain to listen to the sounds surrounding me. I couldn't hear anything apart from a few birds singing gently outside. Then the sound of a door opening and then I sense someone standing close to my face.

"Miss? Are you okay? Can you hear me?" A female voice asks and I finally open my eyes to quickly shut them again.

"It's okay, you can open your eyes. You're in hospital." The woman coaxes with a warm voice that reminds me of my mother's. I lift my eyelids and she smiles at me before stepping back. I look around the room to find that I'm lying in a hospital bed with six faces staring down at me. Five of which were male.

"P-please don't hurt me," I tremble, attempting to get off the bed.

"It's okay, stay there. They're not going to hurt you, I promise." The woman says with a worried glance over her shoulder at them. A boy sprouting blonde hair and blue eyes looks confused and goes to say something but another with dark curly hair shakes his head at him and places a hand on his shoulder. My eyes find the woman's again and she pushes me gently back down on to the bed.

"What's your name, darling?" She asks, a slight welsh accent apparent in her voice.

"Crystal Evers," I splutter before erupting into a fit of coughing. The blonde boy rushes to the side of the bed and I can't help but quiver away. He pours a glass of water from a plastic jug and goes to hand it to me but I just stare at it in utter fear of him. Instead, the woman takes it and offers me it. I gently take it from her and let it run down my parched throat.

"Crystal, how are you feeling?" The woman was dressed in blue overalls and her blonde hair was pulled back into a neat low bun at the back of her head. Her brown eyes were light and a hazel colour; appearing vivid in the bright artificial light. I don'r reply to her question, just nod feverishly.

"Are you sure?" She looks at me with obvious distrust but I just look down at my hands in my lap. It's only then that I realise the hospital gown I was dressed in is short-sleeves; leaving my arms bare. I sublimely slide them beneath the covers. Thankfully, the woman doesn't seem to notice and promptly leaves the room to 'go and have a word with the doctor'. I fiddle nervously with my fingers beneath the covers. The boys were all having discussions between themselves apart from the blonde boy. He takes a step towards me, blue eyes wary and intense as they lock with mine. He reaches towards me and I freeze in fear; my heart fluttering at the fact I was alone in a room with all of them. As his fingers make gently contact with my skin, I try my best not to gasp as he pries my left arm out from underneath the covers. I watch as he slowly runs his eyes up my arm and gasps loudly at the sight. He doesn't say anything. I look down to where he was looking and see the hundreds of marks slashed across my wrist all the way up to my elbow. Some were new, from just two days ago. Others were months old but the scars were still visible and painful to look at. His eyes trail up my arm, onto my neck and then finally rest on my face. Pure shock is obvious within his normally cool blue irises. He lets my wrist fall softly back onto the bed and then turns on his heels before slowly heading out of the room. The other boys failed to notice what just happened and I don't know whether that's a good thing or not. A few minutes later, the nurse returns with the boy close behind.

"Can I speak to Crystal alone for a moment please?" She asks the boys quietly and I look down at my bare feet sticking out of the end of the bed sheets. They were filthy; caked in mud, blood and gravel. I look back up as the door closes and the woman comes to stand beside me.

"Crystal, can I ask you to show me your arms please?" She asks and I hesitantly lift my arms up.

"Turn them over," She instructs and I wince. I close my eyes as I do so, not wanting to see her reaction. When silence is the only thing I hear, I crack open my eyes again to find her on the other side of the room and picking something up from the floor. She brings the square object over and lays it on the floor; signalling for me to stand up. I do so slowly, still conscious of the several drips connected to my bloodstream. I look down and realise what  it is. I shake my head vigorously at her; that was the last thing I wanted to do.

"I promise no one will know apart from me," She smiles warmly at me and I deliberate again. Slowly, I nod once before stepping onto them.

I look down.

Still too high.

I hear the nurse gasp inwardly then turn it into an awkward cough as she writes something down on the clipboard she was holding. I step off and she puts them away as I slowly get back onto the bed again.

"Crystal, you do realise you are severely underweight don't you?" I squeeze my eyes shut at her words. When people told me this, I never believed them. I wanted to. Desperately. But I could never bring myself to.

I look at her with no emotion at all. That was how it made me feel.


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