tutor and scones

eleven: 5 october 2020

Someone hit me over and over, repeatedly with a hammer against my head. They poked my eyeballs out and stabbed me in my left shoulder. The pain was unbearable but I couldn't scream. I couldn't move. I was silenced. What was silencing me? Or who was? Am I dead? Is this it? I never said goodbye...

"Aurora?" I heard a familiar voice, his voice.

Max?

"It's Max. Maximilian Hart."
I couldn't help but let the smile creep up on my face. It was probably a lousy and tired one. I couldn't see him. My vision was blurry. So no one poked my eyeballs out? No one stabbed me? No one hit me with a hammer?

"What happened?"

"A shooting, your parents are outside talking with the doctors. I wanted to stay just in case, you know?"
I hummed, closing my eyes. The bed sank down just when he took a seat beside me, holding my hand. His hand was warm. Too warm. Mine was cold. I needed his warmth.

"I thought we lost you... I was worried. Very worried. Don't do that, please."
His eyes welled up with tears, while he rubbed my hand with his thumb. I felt bad. I was selfish. So super selfish. How could I do that to them? Why did I even stand up? Why didn't I stay on the ground with Ave and Jamie? Why am I this fucking dumb? Why am I even alive? I decided to stop the thoughts before I could break down in front of everyone. Where was I? The place looked similar to a hospital. It was a hospital. Dumbass...

"Hello, Aurora, we're keeping you here overnight. Tomorrow you'll be free if nothing bad happens. Luckily, you got shot through your shoulder. The shoulder is the best place to get shot at after your-"

"Hands and feet..." I mumbled out, my head dizzy.

"Yes, I think you know everything. Any questions?"

"It takes two to three weeks for my wound to heal, right?"
The doctor nodded, now I saw her in a blur. She had curly brown hair like Aveen, tan skin and her eyes dark brown.

The room was too bright. Too bright. I couldn't see clearly. Unclear. The voices were too loud. Too loud. My throat closed. Unable to speak. My mind was a mess. Untidy. The door was closed. Claustrophobic. My shoulder was hurt. In pain. How do I fix this? Why was my life becoming tragic? All because of a cat? No fucking way.

{419 words}