letters [max verstappen]

24

December 18, 2018 - London, UK

George POV

Alex and I were sitting in Becca's room making small talk while Felix had run out to get some food and fresh air. It was what had sadly become a routine thing for us. But then, Alex's head flipped up. "Mate, I think she might be moving." He squinted. I looked closer at her. He was right, her fingers were twitching and she seemed to be stirring, small groans coming from her mouth. We shared a look. "Yeah, I'll go get the doctor." He nodded and ran out of the room. I slowly grabbed her hand.

"Becca, hey." I said softly. "We're here. Waiting for you." I was trying so hard to act calm, but my heart was beating a million miles a minute. "Come on, Becks."

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Becca POV

Everything hurts. So bad. I felt like my entire body was on fire. It hurt to breathe and I couldn't move my arms. My head was pounding like I had just left the mosh pit at a Metallica concert.

"Come on, Becks." I heard a familiar voice, but I couldn't put a name to it.

Eyes, open. I commanded. Slowly they did, and a sterile light hit my eyes.

"Ermmm." My mouth made a noise, and the voice spoke again.

"Hey. We missed you." A man with brown hair and the biggest blue eyes was beaming at me. George. That's George. That's his voice.

"Hey, George." I croaked. "Missed me? Where have I been?" Before he could answer, the black-haired man who I recognized as my...friend Alex ran in with a woman dressed in scrubs and a white coat. A doctor? I saw her and looked around. I was in a hospital bed. In a hospital room. "Hey, Alex." I managed to get out, and he beamed back at me. My mouth felt like the Sahara. "Why am I in a hospital?"

"Hello Becca, I'm Dr. Smith." The doctor introduced herself.

"Why am I in the hospital?" I repeated, then started coughing.

"I'm going to have to ask you to talk only when necessary, your vocal cords are probably very dry. You've been in an accident, gotten some injuries, and been asleep for a bit. Can I ask you something?" Accident? Asleep? Thoughts were rushing through my head but I just nodded. "What is the last thing you can remember?"

I frowned. What was the last thing I remembered? We went to Abu Dhabi to race. Did I qualify? Maybe?  "Qualifying. Abu Dhabi." I mumbled. "But I don't remember how I started the race."

Dr. Smith nodded. "That's all right. Do you know who these two are?" She gestured at Alex and George.

"That's Alex and George." I responded, a bit annoyed.

"Ok. And one final question. What hurts?" She asked.

"Everything." I blurted. "My head, bad. My arms, my legs, my right shoulder hurts like a bitch." I muttered.

She kept smiling. "That's good, that means there are no nerve issues. We're going to put you on some painkillers, and we will have to run lots of tests and do a lot of physical therapy, but this is looking really good. Also, I'm going to have to ask that you two keep in mind how much rest she needs." She addressed George and Alex before walking out the door.

Nerve issues? "What the fuck happened to me." I stared daggers at George, who always folded.

He squirmed. "I'm sorry Becks, we can't tell you right now."

"Fuck off then, if you're going to keep secrets from me." I snapped. I don't know where I am, what day it is, I've apparently lost some of my memory, and they 'can't tell me right now'?