Memories of Rain ❀ Calum Hood

seventh; the boys

Bailey wasn't allowed to have visitors the whole weekend, as they would be running a few tests, to determine if she would be ready to get out of the hospital soon. She absolutely hated it, mostly because they took her blood twice. Twice.

Once was bad, but twice was just horrible.

The whole of Saturday they ran physical tests; scanned her brain; tested her blood. Stuff like that. Then they moved on to psycological tests. They asked her the same questions for three hours straight, before she could finally catch some sleep.

She didn't dream, only slept. She never dreamed anymore. It was quite frustrating. She wished for more memories to appear. She wanted to remember something, like the face of her mother, or one of the moments she shared with Calum, or even just something that had happened to her as a child.

When she woke up, two doctors were talking. They were standing next to her bed. She opened her eyes, and sat up; wanting to hear what they were saying. "Good morning Miss Wilson," one of them said.

She nodded, and yawned. It was almost visiting hours. She was hoping for someone to come visit her, the weekend had been incredibly boring. Whenever she thought about it, her arm would hurt and she could feel the blood rushing out of her again.

"We've determined that you are not suffering from post-traumatic amnesia since you are able to make new memories," one of the doctors told her. Doctor Williams soon joined in on the conversation.

"We think that your memories are gone because of head trauma. You might regain them one day, but it could be months, even years," she said. The older woman was frowning. She patted Bailey on the shoulder, nodded and left. The other doctor followed her towards the door.

"Something could trigger the memories, but you have to find it yoruself. You should be out in a week or two, so go chase the moments." The two doctors left, and Bailey fell back against the soft pillows of her hospital bed. She stared at the clock.

Something to trigger her memories? Poetry or books, perhaps? What about her friends and family, shouldn't they be able to trigger them?

Apparently not.

***

She heard their voices long before they were at her door. They actually walked past it twice, but then she could hear Calum's voice joining them, and there was a knock on the door. "Come in," she said.

Four boys were stood in her room. She knew them, somehow. One of them was Calum, but the other three she couldn't quite figure out. Calum smiled at her when she furrowed her brows. "I brought name tags," he said.

The three boys laughed as he put the stickers on their shirts. One of them, a blonde boy with legs longer than the Empire State Building and a lip ring, was named Luke, he nodded at her. He seemed to be the most quiet one.

Another one had bright red hair and a goofy grin; his name was Michael, although Calum had written "Dickface" at first. Michael laughed. "You'll remember me," he told her, and Calum playfully hit him on the shoulder.

The last one was named Ashton. He had curly hair, hazel eyes, and dimples so deep that she almost lost herself in them. Lost herself again. He smiled at her, showing off his dimples.

Michael started backing out the room, giggling. Bailey's eyebrows shot into the air, but Calum just smiled at her. The other boys remained perfectly still. Somehow, it seemed wrong to her.

The red-haired boy ran back into the room, carrying an over-sized teddy bear. He was laughing as he gave it to her, and the other boys were grinning.

Luke was the first to speak, "He's called Cal, and we won it for you a few years back, when we were all just friends." They all hustled together, and sat down by her bed. "We all lived in Australia, and we had to work together to win some stupid game. Calum was the one who scored the final point, so we named it after him," Ashton said, a smile still living on his face.

She nodded, but she was still a bit chocked by these loud, fast-paced boys. "Uhm," she began. She was about to ask how they got to meet each other, but Calum seemed to read her mind.

"They're in the band," he said. They all nodded. They were acting like angels. Punk-rock angels sent from the sky to annoy her. But in a brotherly way.

Suddenly, she remebered the tattoo, and she thought that maybe Calum knew something about it. They had been really close, after all. She wanted to ask him about it, but she didn't get to, because the boys threw themselves into a detailed story, about how Calum had left them on tour when he found out that she was in a coma.

She smiled at that.

"You actually woke up when i visited you first," he said. She wrinkled her nose, remembering when the door had appeared in the hallway. So he had been one of the faces hovering above her. That's why he looked so familiar the first time he visited. She smiled.

"You looked pretty beat up, but fortunately your injuries have healed up a bit. It was hell seeing you like that," Calum told her. The boy's all let out an "aw," and pushed each other. She laughed, and grabbed Calum's hand. "I'm better now," she told him.

***

When the boys left, Bailey went out into the garden. Lily was sitting on the ground, by the lilies. She was wearing an orange scarf around her head. It matched the flowers.

She walked over to the younger girl, and sat down next to her. Lily was humming a song, but she didn't know it. She didn't look up at Bailey. She wasn't smiling either, which made Bailey feel uneasy.

They sat in silence for a while. "I think I want these flowers at my funeral," Lily told her, gesturing towards the orange lilies. Bailey bit her lip, looking at Lily with a worried face.

She didn't look to good; she looked more sick than ever. Maybe it had been a mistake to stop the chemotherapy.

"Don't talk about the dead. You haven't joined them yet," Bailey said. Lily turned her head towards her, and smiled. "You're right."

"I haven't joined them," Lily said, her voice sounding too bitter for someone so young and innocent. Bailey felt a metallic taste in her mouth. The kind that acts like a warning right before a thunderstorm. "Yet."