Social Suicide

T W E N T Y : Turn Off The Dark

SOCIAL SOLITUDE: ARISTELLE
November 1 + November 3 + November 7 + November 9 + November 10 + November 13 + November 14 + Thursday, November 15 2018
I started hearing voices before I was able to open my eyes. I faded in and out, so I could only catch a few things here and there. Most of which was distorted and didn't make any sense.
"She's still stable. I'll come back in a few hours."
"You should go home. Get some rest, take a shower, eat something."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"I should have protected her."
"There was nothing you could've d—"
"I was standing right fucking there! If I wasn't so angry, if I was focused on her instead of him, I could have pulled her out of the way!"
"Take a seat, breathe. She'll be fine. You just need to relax."
"She's in here because of me! Don't tell me to be bloody calm! It should've been me."
"How is she?"
"The same."
"Her BP is low."
"Hang a unit, get a crash cart. And page Wilson!"
"I'm gonna kill him. I swear. I'm going to."
"You're not killing anyone, Hol—"
"The hell I'm not!"
"He's in jail. That's how he gets to suffer."
"Luc is right. A quick death is not what he deserves."
"This isn't helping her. No one can help her. Her fate is in her own hands now."
"I didn't leave her when she was in her last two comas. I'm not leaving her now."
"You can go now, Doctor."
When I came around again, I felt something warm pressed against my hand.
"She just squeezed my hand!" Spencer—I think?—yelled, a little too loudly.
"Aristelle? Can you hear me?" I felt Molly's small and always cold hands brush against my hair.
"Avery, I'm here. It's Holden... Can you open your eyes for me? Ella?" His usually husky but heavenly voice was so gentle now, the way someone talked to a pet or a small child. Not at all what I was used to. I wasn't sure if I liked it.
I attempted to open my eyes, but they were so heavy. I thought I got a mumble out. I squeezed his hand again. I'm here, too, I tried to tell him.
"Avery." His palm reached up to cup my cheek. It was a struggle to lean into him.
They let out a breath of relief when my eyes fluttered open. Molly laughed through her tears and wrapped her arms around me.
"Easy, Mol." I hacked out, then tried to clear my throat. It felt like sandpaper.
She let go immediately. "Sorry, sorry! Go get someone," she told Lucian.
"What..." I breathed. The words came out very slowly. It was annoying. It felt like there were rocks in my lungs. "What happened?"
"You don't remember what happened at the party?"
Party? Oh. "The Halloween party?"
"Holden and Matthew got into a fight. You tried to stop them," Molly mewled sadly.
Tried to? "But how did I end up here?"
"Castro. He didn't see you standing there before he took a swing at me." Spencer's voice was laced with pure hatred. "At least, that's what he says happened."
Matthew hit me? Hard enough that I've been hospitalized for...
"What day is it?" It was dark outside the window.
"Thursday."
"I've been unconscious for twenty-four hours? Fuck." I tried to laugh. "He's stronger than I gave him credit for." I brought my hand to my forehead. I was burning up. "My head is killing me."
"Avery..." Spencer sat in an old, blue hospital chair next to me. "Today is November fifteenth."
I stared at him for an immeasurable moment, processing. Another fucking coma?
I finally took in my surroundings. If I knew Molly—and I sure did—she wouldn't leave my side to do anything without being dragged into it. That included eating, sleeping, showering, changing, all those necessities. She did look tired, but she was no longer in her Halloween costume. None of them were. That should have been my first clue.
I chuckled with no trace of humor. "Did you kill him? Please tell me you killed him."
He looked up at Molly sharply with his eyebrows raised. She rolled her eyes at him, clearly defeated. I didn't understand what it meant.
"He's in jail," she informed me.
Lucian came back in with a surgical attending on his tail. She smiled when she saw me.
"Miss Avery! Glad to see you with your eyes open. How are you feeling?"
I shrugged. "As good as I can be. My head is throbbing."
She nodded and unhooked the stethoscope from around her neck. "That's normal. You had a cerebral hemorrhage five days ago, but we took care of it in surgery. We can give you something for the headache and other pains, but it'll make you drowsy." After a few more minutes of medical crap, she left the room. I touched my throat.
Spencer noticed. "I'll get you some water."
Molly held out her hand to stop him. "I got it." She walked out and took Lucian with her. She looked like she needed a minute to herself.
Spence got up from the hideous chair and sat on the edge of my small bed. He just stared at me.
"What?" I queried.
"I just... You're alive."
"Am I?"
He laughed. "And still a smart ass."
"If I wasn't, then something really would be wrong," I reminded him.
"Oh, I know."
He took both of my hands in his and held them tightly, as if savoring the moment. As sweet as it was, I was confused.
"What's wrong?"
He stayed quiet. I squeezed his fingers. When he opened his eyes again, they were moist.
I tried to sit up, alarmed. "Spence, what is it?" I asked again.
"Don't try to sit up. I'm fine."
"You're crying."
"I am not." He played with the ends of my hair for a few seconds, then met my eyes again. "I thought I was never going to see you again."
"Oh, Holden..." I tried to keep my composure. I didn't have the energy for this type of conversation. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm pretty difficult to get rid of." I smiled weakly. "I'm okay."
I was still disoriented and quizzical. He was crying because he thought I was going to die? When did we get to this point?
"Here."
I hadn't realized I closed my eyes again. Molly was handing me a cup of water and she had set down a small pitcher on the table in my reach.
"Thanks, Mol." I emptied it quickly.
We heard the squeaking of running footsteps down the hall and the three of them turned to look behind them at the open door.
Zander flew into the room, something between distress and relief battling in his features.
I smiled. "Jackson."
He huffed and puffed, way out of breath. Odd for someone as active as him. He put both of his cold hands on either side of my face. They felt nice.
"Ari. I thought I lost you." He tried to laugh. "Don't ever do that to me again."
"I'll do what I can."
Behind him, Spencer cleared his throat. When Zan got here, he had edged himself off the bed.
"Can we do anything for you?" Lucian asked me.
"Yeah. Go home. Live your lives."
"I don't wanna leave y—"
"Spence, please... I'm fine. I'm not gonna die. I just wanna sleep. Go focus on school, play football." I pressed my call button. "And take a shower. Because you need one."
Molly laughed.
"You're one to talk." He grinned.
"Ah, but I have an excuse," I pointed out.
Just as he was about to argue—I was pretty sure he was going to say he had an excuse, too—a nurse walked in. "Everything okay?"
"She needs those pain meds," Molly told her. "I'll stop by after school tomorrow, Elle. I love you." She squeezed my upper arm and kissed the top of my head.
"Love you, too. Goodnight guys."
Lucian waved.
"Now who's being stubborn?" Spencer mumbled.
"Just shut up."
"Yes, ma'am." This man was gonna make me lose my damn mind.
"I'll see you soon," Zander whispered.
"Not too soon," I told them both. "Your life doesn't need to revolve around me."
Spence winked.
The nurse stepped back in after they left. "This will help, dear."
She pushed something into my line from a syringe. I thanked her quietly before slipping away again.