Too Bad For Her Own Good

Chapter 44

"He's what?" I spit into the receiver of the hospital phone, unable to comprehend what I'm hearing.

"I'm sorry sir, but Mr. Emerald is speaking at a conference in Senegal until this evening. The earliest he could be back was tomorrow afternoon." The receptionist sings, a chirpy voice that's meant to calm people down.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry, you don't understand. His daughter is-"

"I understand the circumstances with his daughter. I've spoken to him and relayed the information you've told me, he said he can be back in Middletown tomorrow afternoon." She cuts me off. Solidifying that yes, Katherines dad is not coming back tonight.

"Thank you for your time." I mumble into the phone before angrily slamming it down onto the table.

I don't understand how a father, especially a father of a daughter such as Kat, could choose a conference - could choose work- instead of coming immidatly home to his daughter who is unconscious in a hospital room after a car crash.

Maybe I'm the strange one, with my inability it seems to leave her side. Maybe the craving to be around her, maybe it's abnormal. My love for her - my adoration - it's so unique to me. Her parents don't seem to feel it, and I simply cannot understand that.

"Would you like some coffee, Logan?" Katherines mom asks me. I shake my head no. I haven't been able to drink or eat anything all night.

After Katherine got to the hospital, they took her into some room for tests and such. When they came back out, they said she was unconscious and the only thing I could do was wait for her to wake up.

Naturally, I called her mother. Whom, I'd nearly forgotten had been upstairs the entire time. I'm surprised she didn't hear the violent sobbing that ensued as soon as I heard that God awful scream over my cell phone.

She came right away, nervous and jittery. Sadly, and maybe morbidly, I loved that she was sad. I loved that she was crying. And that she looked upset.

Because this meant that she cared. And among all of the shameless flirting she used to try with me, and the horrid way at which she addressed her daughter: she was worried about her.

And Kat deserved to have people worrying about her. Hell, the whole world should be here awaiting the precious moment that she opens up those pale, blue eyes.

I called her friend, Alice, too. She had lots of questions and is on her way now.

It's about 8 in the morning, and I haven't slept at all. By the time all of Kats tests were done, it was nearly 11, and I couldn't bear to sleep with her in a state like that.

So, in all honesty, I cried. This is the first time I've left her room, and it's just to make some phone calls.

Furious as her father, I walk back into her room: 2047.

She has on one of those typical, rigid hospital gowns. It's white with little blue things that resemble dead flowers. Her hair is flowing down her neck. After she got cleaned up by the doctors, I brushed her hair for her as best as I could. I knew how it was, her hair is unruly. And if she woke up to her hair a mess, she wouldn't be too happy.

Her eyes are shut, and they haven't opened yet. The doctors ensure me - over and over - that she's breathing, but that it's just very faint. That, she's been through a lot and her body is working through it, just slowly.

Her face is cut up and covered with bandages and bruises. Her left eye is black and blue, from where it fell onto that hard steering wheel.

Her lips are puffy and bruised, and her forehead is ridden with splotches.