"Is she alright? Please tell me she's alright!"
A worried voice woke me. That, or the throbbing pain in my head. It was quiet in this place, where was I? I could hear agitated murmurs around me, worry in their voices. I kept my eyes closed and my ears open, trying to make out what the murmurs were saying. It was too quiet, and I don't like it when it's quiet. Quiet makes it easy for Zia to call out to me. I wish they would talk louder, the silence was killing. I opened my eyes. Whitewashed wall and bright lights blinded me for a second, before I was greeted with tight faces and distressed eyes.
"Oh, she's alright!"
Of course I'm alright, why would I not-Oh. A reminder of what happened flashed in my head. Headaches flooded my brain along with it, pounding and pounding. I wanted it to go away. It didn't.
"M-Mom?"
I lifted my head, with more effort than I thought I would've needed. They've started talking again, after I opened my eyes. The only person looking down at me was my mom, with her sea-green eyes.
"Are you fine? Are you okay? Please tell me you're fine. And okay. And fine," The tension soon left her face as I nodded at her, plastering a fake smile on. She didn't notice, taking the imposter for a real smile. I felt bad; she didn't know that I had a massive thumping pain in my head.
"Oh," she breathed a sigh of relief, "That's great, Cher,"
I smiled again, this time for real, at the thought of how much my mother cared for me. But I still had a lingering feeling of guilt, at the thought that my mom didn't know that Zia had made me injure myself. Yet again. Then I noticed that mom was still babbling on, not taking in that I was lost in my own thoughts as well.
"Chermaine darling, are you listening to me?" There was a tone of concern in her voice now.
"Y-yes, of course. What happened?"
"We found you unconscious in your room, and there was a pool of blood on your sheets. The doctor said they found shards of glass in your skull. What were you doing?" the worry came back again. Well, of course. What kind of mother wouldn't be worried sick if they found their daughter with a blood smeared skull? I wish I could tell her about the dark figures, but if I did, she wouldn't believe me, brush my stories away and say it's all nonsense, just like every other time I've tried to tell her.
"Ma'am, your daughter is going to have to stay with us for a few months," A man in a white coat, who was obviously a doctor, spoke in a clear and serious tone, "She needs time for her head to heal. We'll be providing her food from the hospital, so there will be no need for you to bring food in,"
"Yes, I understand,"
"Good. You may be allowed to visit her during work hours. It's advised you don't come in during the evening, she should be allowed to get as much rest as possible,"
"Okay," my mother's voice replied,"Chermaine, I'm going to leave now. Get some rest, I'll be back tomorrow," She patted my head gently and walked away, the click and clack of her heels fading away with her as she went. I realized that it didn't hurt when she patted my head. Then I noticed that my head was bandaged tightly. I lifted my hand and touched it to the layers of cloth. No pain. No pain at all. They've done a wonderful job bandaging it up. Hopefully they've taped Zia's mouth shut as well.
