I'm Not Confused

Help

I woke up the next morning, but in a hospital room. As I began to look around in my state of confusion, I discovered, first, that my hands were covered in bandages. The heart rate monitors beats started to accelerate and someone walked next to me. It, thank the heavens and earth, was my mom. My dad slept on a couch next to me.
Mom helped me sit up and that's how we sat for a while. Silently. There were no words we had to say, only feelings that filled the air, making a fog of grief.
I couldn't help it, the tears began to poor. She hugged me and cooed me with her soft motherly voice. We sat like this for what might have been hours, but it couldn't have been, because a nurse walked in to check on me.
"Hi sweety, let me look at your hands." I tried to move my arm up, but every muscle in my body ached ad screamed in pure protest. She slowly undid my bandages, carefully enough that it was like undoing the bandages of a porcelain doll, whom broke and the glue was still drying.
When they were finally removed, I saw what my hands looked like.
My hands were covered in scabs, and the few that dried up looked like scars. So now my hands are ugly forever. Great.
My heart dropped and I looked away. I didn't want to see my own skin. I didn't want to see what I looked like. I just wanted to cry.
The nurse left soon after and my mom walked back over, biting her lip.
"I text Helena. She'll be here soon."
I looked at her for a few minutes. Was she serious? Does this mean what I think it means? I can't read this woman.
After a few silent moments her phone buzzed, so she woke up my dad and left, making my head buzz. She definitely knows. But that didn't matter.
Helena walked in, her face covered in tears. She covered her mouth with her hand and ran to me.
We embraced. My cheek against hers, our tears mixed and I suddenly felt better. I didn't care how bad I looked.
"I'm so sorry Rose, this is all my fault, if only... I don't know maybe if I- I never left," she began to ramble but lost all her sense in her tears.
"I love you," she spat out. She grabbed my shoulders and pressed her face against mine. She kissed me forcefully, as if she never would leave. I kissed her back after my head cleared.
She finally broke away and looked down shamefully.
"I'm sorry, it's just..." She started. I laughed and hugged her.
"Never apologize. I love you too." We stopped hugging and she looked at me.
"My parents are furious. They hate every inch of you, and almost kicked me out," she looked down again and I bit into my lip.
"But," she smiled "I don't care. No one can choose who I love."
She held my hand and smiled. But we couldn't do that to long, because suddenly we heard the flash of a camera.
I looked behind her and the moment and my confidence was suddenly ruined.
A tall, lanky fellow stood behind her with a camera. He looked in his thirties, and had a very hipster look to him. He put his camera down and walked to us, his hand wide open. Like I would shake that grimy thing.
"Hi! I'm Tony, from channel 90 news, and I want your story young ladies!"
We looked at each other. I mentally screamed for help.
It looks like this isn't near over.