Agnes in JackieLand

Chapter 8

It was like being in a darkened tunnel alone, singly focused on one thing, getting to the other side. Nothing or no one could get in your way. You could not, would not stop until you met the end. My end was in an ICU room on the fourth floor. My fate was laid in the hands of God and these random doctors.

People were a blur as I passed them by, not really seeing anyone in their proper form. Maybe my obsessive condition was setting in; my only goal was finding my body. I wrinkled my nose in distaste; this place smelled weird, like cleaners and medical stuff.

It reminded me of when my brother did some stupid skateboard trick, failed to land it, and smashed his face off the pavement. It split his chin open; he had come into the house cupping his chin, blood pouring through his fingers.

"Dad, I think I need to go to the hospital," Liam said calmly.

Our father, who had been teaching me how to roll out pie dough, froze for an instant. I had thought, here we go; Dad was going to freak out. Instead, my father surprised me by grabbing a towel off the counter, walking over to Liam, and handing it to him. "Put pressure on it with this. Aggie, get your shoes on, and everyone get into the car," he had said without a hint of hysterics.

Although their dad was dressed in a purple dress and black pumps, he had stepped up and been a dad that day. He had surprised me, and I respected him that afternoon while he calmly sat with Liam as he got thirteen stitches. It was hard to believe that it had been two years since that happened.

I stepped off the elevator onto the fourth floor and took a deep breath. I wondered how my dad was holding up now. Was he a freaked-out diva, or was he that calm, cool, collected man Liam had needed that day? I waited for a second before moving, trying to sense if I could feel where my body was. With no twitch of my nose, I resigned to the fact that I didn't have supernatural powers connecting me to myself.

"You can't be on this floor." A nurse told me as she hurried past to a room with a screaming machine inside.

Too late, I thought. I already was on this floor. I just had to find myself. I tried to be as inconspicuous as possible as I went from room to room, looking for my unconscious body. Most of the people here were old and looked like they were dying. I shivered and rubbed my arms. I didn't like it one bit.

I almost passed by the girl in room four-zero-two, but the boy sitting in the chair beside the bed looked familiar. I would recognize the back of that dirty blonde head anywhere. This meant that the girl lying in the bed I had almost passed by was me. How could I not recognize my own body? I looked at it again and realized the bandages covering my head had thrown me. I had been looking for a blonde-haired girl. This girl had tubes, wires, and a peaceful feel, which is not me. Nope, this couldn't be me, but that was definitely Graham holding the hand of the person lying there.

A heaviness in my stomach made me rub circles on my belly to soothe the queasiness quickly building. My fears and guilt were eating at me. How could I face Graham after what I had said to him last night? Even after all the mean words I drunkenly spewed, here he was, sitting by my bedside, holding my hand. He was just staring at me like he was willing my eyes to open. Knowing Graham, that was precisely what he was doing.

Too many emotions were swirling inside me, threatening to swallow me whole. I had to grab onto one and hold on to it. I could only allow myself one feeling at a time, so I picked the closest one to the surface. Anger. I was angry at myself for being naive and not listening to Graham. I was mad at Mason for leading me on and was madder than a hornet at Jackie. The evil witch who had put me here. Who had almost killed me, and it could very well still happen by the look of my body lying in that bed.