Finding Love Again

Part Two

TWO DAYS LATER

I feel strange. I'm awake but I'm not,my body feels weaker and weaker; I can't believe I'm alive. I don't know how long it's been or where I am. I know nothing about David, is he alive? Is he dead? All that pops into my mind is the attack, little snippets of it. David collapsing to the ground, the horrible man atop of me, cutting my dress; cutting me, my Dad and his friends bashing him mercilessly. I felt my eyes begin to flutter open, I was so disoriented, the room was too white, the light too bright, it must be a hospital. I managed to open them slightly, by my side, my mother.

"Mom?" I garble, my own voice unrecognizable to me, scratchy and dark.

"Oh my God, sweetheart, are you ok? How do you feel?" she questioned.

"Like I just got hit by a truck, Gahh.. Oh, my head. It feels like those two little men from the cuckoo clock are stuck inside my temporal lobe, banging on a metal bell with their little hammers all the while that annoying cuckoo bird's in a continuous shriek" I returned.

"Sounds painful" my mother acknowledged.

"Nah, you don't say" I said sarcastically.

"No need to get snippy with me, Kiara" she expressed.

"I know.... I know, I'm sorry, Mom" I realized.

"Well you've just woken up so I can't exactly be mad at you. I was so scared, baby, they didn't know whether or not you'd pull through, you were in the surgical room for 7 hours, I sat in the waiting room the whole time. I remember when the doctor came out and told us you were out of the woods, that you'd make a full recovery, I was so happy. I love you, Kiara, thanks for coming back to me. Come on, get over here" she voiced, holding her arms out. I went to scooch to her but was stopped by the indescribable pain shooting my side, I clutched my hip with both hands and leaned forwards.

"Ahhh! Shit, owwww" I exclaimed, removing my hand from my hip, it was coated in blood.

"I'll go get the nurse, stay still, you probably just tore your stitches" she reckoned, quickly exiting the room. I grabbed my linen sheet pressing it against the wound, it hurt like a mother. My mother hastily returned with a nurse in tow.

"How do you feel, honey pie?" she asked, her thick Brooklyn accent shining through.

"Like I just got stabbed" I replied.

She chuckled. "Well you did, sugar. I'm Nurse Hart, but you can call me Sophia. Now lets have a look at those stitches" she requested.

I removed the cloth from my hip, slid my gown up and revealed my stitches to the nurse. "I see, you just tore the second and fifth stitch, I'll go get a suture kit and fix you right up" she diagnosed, strutting out of the room.

She returned a few minutes later with a metal tray in one hand and fresh sheets in the other.

"Just lay back, hun" she said, retrieving a syringe from the tray. I nodded in response, laying back as gently as I possibly could.

"This may sting a little" she warned. It stung a-fucking lot.

"Okey dokey, Kiara, you're all done, try not to tear these ones" she said, covering my cut with a sterile white bandage. As the nurse began to leave the room, I realized something I hadn't even thought to ask yet.

"David? Is he ok?" I asked. She gave me a sympathetic look; no he can't be.

"Is he... Is he dead?" I stuttered out.

"Listen, Hun, no, he isn't dead but the wounds inflicted on him did a lot of damage and he lost a lot of blood, he's in critical condition in the ICU. He's been in and out of consciousness for 12 hours, there's a blood clot travelling to his brain. The doctors don't have very high hopes for a speedy recovery, they don't have high hopes for a recovery at all. I'm truly sorry" she explained.

I was shell shocked, I didn't know what to do, my love, my life, is going to die.

"Can, um. Can I see him?" I requested, tears brimming in my eyes, about to plummet.

"You just got stitched back up, sugar, you aren't exactly fit for any sort of travel" Nurse Hart told.

"I'll be really careful, I promise. I'll even go in a wheelchair. Please, this may be my last chance to see him, don't rob me of that" I begged.

She placed her hands on her hips and thought for a moment, chewing on her bottom lip, affliction present in her eyes. She looked back up at me and smiled.

"Oh, alright, just for a second, ok?" she accepted.

"I promise, only a second" I agreed.

The nurse left to get a wheelchair, leaving me alone with my mother. She looked at me concern filled her eyes.

"Are you sure you want to do this" she inquired.

"Mom, I have to, it's David. I love him" I confirmed. "I know you do, honey, but do you want to remember him as the boy who loved you more than anything, the happy go-lucky teenager who used to pick you up from our house with a picnic basket and the two of you would waltz down to the creek, eating finger sandwiches and talking about your futures? she asked. "Or do you want to remember him like this lying in a hospital bed, tubes running in and out of his body?".

I shuttered at the heartbreaking mental picture my mother just bestowed on to me. This can't be happening? Why is this happening?

"If it were me lying in that bed he'd be there, holding my hand to the end and I know it, I owe him the same thing" I convinced.

My mother smiled. "Then, Kiara, you are stronger than I" she acknowledged, standing up, walking over to me and embracing me. I couldn't hold back the floodgates anymore, tears spilled down my cheeks, staining my mother's shirt.

"Sweetie?" the Nurse interrupted, holding out the aforementioned wheelchair. "Are you ready".

"Ready as I'll ever be" I returned, carefully shuffling off my bed, my mother and Nurse Hart easing me into the chair.

"Well, lets go then" I spoke, imagining the horrors I am soon to face.

I'm not ready for this, I'll never be ready for this.