All I Have

Chapter 19 ~ The Pain that Makes Colours Run Grey and Sight to Blur at its Edges

I know I'm in a hospital before I wake up. Not because of the cliche monitors beeping, or the uncomfortable smell, but because I remember falling. My mind starts working a few moments before my body does, and because I'm tired, it doesn't occur to me to panic. There's no movements in the room, and even though my body isn't responding to my brain, and maybe my spinal cord has finally given up, I'm grateful for the peace.

The bed is comfortable, and the sheets I can tell are clean and pulled tight across me. Before I can gather the strength to make my eyes open, I wonder whose job it was to put me here and tuck me in. I know there'll be tubes and wires all over me, and I'll probably be wearing a hospital gown, and it creeps me out a little that someone had to move me about and prod my unconscious body.

I summon all the energy I can find in the hidden pockets of my stiff muscles and try to pull open my eyes. Only one of them manages to twitch a little, and I furrow my eyebrows to blink them out of place. After a few seconds of scrunching up my tired face, my eyelids separate and I can roll my eyes around to try to find someone I recognise.

The whole room is blindingly bright and I wonder how long it is that I've been unconscious. It still looks like daytime, but what a shitty way this would be to spend my birthday. Everything is blurry except the beaming sunshine, and I force myself to stare at the rays for a second to burn my vision into working for itself.

'Hey, you're up.' I turn my head to see Emilio leaning over me, pushing some hair away from my face and leaning close so that I can see him. He looks relieved to see that I'm awake, 'I'm just going to run and grab a doctor and your parents.'

He disappears, leaving me to keep my eyes roaming around the room. There's no one else waiting in here with me, and Emilio's left an old book beside the chair he was sitting in. If that book has anything to do with The Court, I'm going to hit him with it, because it's the least subtle secret research method ever.

I try to push myself up but I notice the stiffness in my lower body, and let the confusion and panic finally set in. My legs are covered by a blanket but I can see my feet where they poke up at the end. I watch intensely as I try to make them move, wiggle, twitch, anything. More seconds pass as the frustration grows and grows until there's tears in my eyes and I'm bordering on screaming for someone to come and help me.

'Zia?' Asher says, bursting through the door and rushing over to me.

'Why don't my legs work?' I say, realising how much the panic is restricting the breath in my lungs, 'Asher, I can't move-'

'Calm down, it's okay.' He says, grabbing hold of my hand, 'You've been given a muscle relaxant and pain medication, that's why it's difficult to move.'

'What?' I gasp, barely hearing him.

'Look at me. Zia, look at me.' He says, grabbing my face and forcing me to look at him, 'The doctor is coming, he'll explain it better than I can, but please, just try to calm down.'

I take a rattling breath and stare hard down at my feet.

'Asher,' I ask, more frightened than I remember being in a long time, 'Do my legs still work?'

He looks down for a second, and then gives me a half smile, 'We don't know yet. You're post-op, so until the anesthetic wears off and we give it a try, we're just not sure.'

'Post-op?' I question.

He puts a hand on my shoulder and guides me back down to a comfortable position on my pillows, 'Do you remember what happened, in the library?'

I close my eyes for a second, and nod, 'I remember falling.'

'Yeah you did.' Asher says, 'When you fell, we brought you to the hospital and they told us that the shrapnel in your back had moved again when you hit the ground. They told us that they had to operate immediately, or you could end up paralysed.'