The Freak

1. concussion

Blood pools down my shaky fingers, dripping warm liquid onto my knuckles. The side of my head throbs in a searing pain and a faint buzzing radiates throughout my thoughts. I look around me at the blurry depiction of my teammates who huddle around me, examining me as if I'm some lost puppy. The smell of copper and sweat congeals in my nostrils and I fight desperately to keep my lunch down as I steady myself on the sheen wooden floor.

As I try to make out the faces ahead of me, inaudible mutters are clouding my ears and the utter confusion sets in. Everything from just a few minutes ago is a complete blur. Why am I on the floor and why is my head bleeding?

"You okay, Ronnie?" A strawberry blonde pushes past the foggy figures to assess me, her voice as light as air. I recognize the voice as Chrissy's, the captain of my team and my best friend. I give her a weak thumbs up, not having any energy to ask questions, let alone speak. Her soft and dainty hands take mine, helping me rise to my feet slowly. "It's not so bad. I'll take you to the nurse," her voice sounds distant but her hand around my waist is present. My vision blurs in and out of focus as my brain struggles to maintain consciousness. It doesn't feel 'not so bad' but I take Chrissy's word for it.

"I'm so sorry, Ronnie!" A voice shouts across the gymnasium, and I immediately know it as Katie Copeland. I can only assume she is the cause of my bleeding head, but I can't remember how nor why. To her apology I don't respond. Not because I'm angry with her but because I can't bring myself to form a coherent sentence amongst the pain. It stings so bad and the only thing I can think about is the nausea ruffling through my body like an unwanted chill.

As we exit the gym, Chrissy ushers me down the abandoned hallways of Hawkins High. It's so silent and empty that if I couldn't see the ground beneath me, I would forget just where I am. I try to focus on that-the ground-to keep me from losing all consciousness or food that still sticks around in my stomach. I focus on Chrissy and her dull-blonde hair that is always in a ponytail even when it doesn't need to be. Her beautiful complexion that I am constantly jealous of and her scent of sweet lilac and honey. What I can't focus on, however, is her voice. Her voice that is always smooth and medicinal is no longer present. I've never heard her so completely silent. She is always saying something sweet, especially in a trifling moment like this.

When I first joined the cheerleading squad, she was the first friend I made. She was the only teammate who seemed genuinely excited to meet me, as the rest of the girls were mainly standoff-ish. There was always a compliment radiating from her mouth or a funny story about her little brother. If someone was upset or hurt, she knew exactly what to say and how to ease the situation with just the soothing melody of her voice. For her to be so silent in this very moment is unsettling and I wonder if something deeper is wrong besides the blatant gash in my head.

"Am I... Is it bad?" I slur, breathing heavily at the toll it took on me to say only that. It feels similar to having drank too much alcohol and the woozy, inhibiting symptoms are beginning to kick in. Normally I would love to feel this way as my friends and I gather around a bonfire and drink until our minds black out. However, with the agonizing pain and the smell of blood still wafting into my nose, I have the urge to never get drunk again.

When Chrissy opens a door, I assume we've reached the nurse's office as she sets me down on a cushioned chair. She lowers herself so that she's squatting, eye-level with me.

"You're okay, Ronnie," She smiles faintly, "it's probably nothing serious. Just a concussion and a cut." There's that calming voice again that could always make me feel like I'm being tucked in bed by a loving mother. Yet, there's something missing in her voice. A tone that is usually there but was replaced with something more... exhausted sounding. She pats me on the knees before leaving to speak with the nurse, abandoning me with my splitting headache and fuzzy vision.