Beyond The Crash

CHAPTER 2 | [A NEW WORLD]

Beep beep beep beep

"How is she?"

"The doctor says she's fine,"

I heard voices. One sounded a bit familiar while the other was strange. Who are they? I thought to myself. I slowly opened my eyes, and I saw two guys discussing. One of them I recognised, and the other was this buff guy; definitely not a doctor.

"Oh, she's awake," the blonde boy spoke.

"Where am I?" I asked him.

"You're at the hospital," he answered.

"Are you okay?" The buff guy asked me.

"Um...who...?"

Wait, my phone, my belongings.

I stood up from the bed and removed the drip that was attached to my hand.

"Hey, what are you doing?" The buffed guy asked. I turned and looked at him. "Where are my things?" I asked him, but he looked at me like he didn't know what I was talking about.

The blonde guy walked out of the room only to come back in a matter of seconds, holding my bag pack and my box. I rushed to where he stood and took my bag, I opened it hurriedly, trying to find my phone.

I checked all the pockets that were in the bag but didn't find my phone. I slumped on the ground, feeling depressed.

"Are you okay? What are you looking for?" The buffed guy asked me in confusion. I turned and looked at him with tears in my eyes. My aunt must have tried to call me. She must be worried about me.

Why am I so unfortunate? All this started because of my longing to be independent. Now I don't know where I am, how I got here or where my phone is to call my aunt and tell her I'm okay.

It's all that driver's fault. If only he had taken that turn, I wouldn't be here, no, if only I had listened to my aunt and stayed put, not wanting to leave, none of this would have happened.

"Hey, stand up. Nicky, go get the doctor," the buffed guy said in a calm tone. He helped me up and took me to the bed while the blonde boy, who was Nicky, left to get the doctor. I sat on the bed still gloomy as tears kept rolling down my face.

"Um... what's- sigh," he sighed as he tried to speak. "Dont cry. The doctor will be here soon," he said reassuringly. But that was not the reason I was crying; an idea suddenly up in my head, 'Why didn't I think of it sooner?' I thought. I quickly wiped my tears and looked up at him.

"Hey, may I borrow your phone? I want to make an urgent call," I looked at him desperately, waiting for his answer and hoping that he would say yes.

"Sure," he pulled out his phone from his pocket and gave it to me.

"Thanks," I quickly took it and dailed my aunt's number.

Come on, pick up, pick up, I mumbled desperately, but it didn't work. I still didn't give up, I tried again and again, but to no avail, she didn't pick.

Is this the end? I thought as the only hope I had faded. I lowered my head and handed the phone back to its owner. "Thanks..." I said softly.

I raised my head up to look at the ceiling, not wanting my tears to fall, but it didn't work, I started to cry again. Why is this happening to me? I miss my aunt, my friends, and neighbours. Why did I leave? Why didn't I listen to my aunt? All sorts of thoughts filled my head as I cried.