heartstrings

Chapter 32

Nicholas
February 8th 2018

I woke up with a jolt, the world spinning around me in a disorienting whirl. The pain has been immediate and intense, radiating through every inch of my body.

My head has been throbbing, a relentless drumbeat echoing through my skull. Where am I? The question flits through my foggy mind as I struggle to make sense of my surroundings.

The first thing I noticed is the smell—an antiseptic tang mingled with a faint, almost sweet scent that I can't quite place. I tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washed over me, and I collapsed back against the pillow.

My eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light filtering through the curtains. I'm in a hospital room. The walls are a stark, sterile white, and the floor is a polished tile that reflects the harsh, fluorescent light overhead.

I looked around the room, my vision still blurred. To my left, my father and stepmother were asleep in two uncomfortable-looking armchairs. They were slumped over, heads tilted at awkward angles.

My father's face was lined with exhaustion, while my stepmother's features were softened by sleep.

As I tried to move again, I felt a sharp pain in my arm. My eyes darted down, and I saw the IV drip hanging limply, the needle coming loose from my vein.

Panic rose in my chest, a frantic surge that made my heart race. I fumbled with the IV, trying to reinsert it, but the effort only caused more pain.

The sound of footsteps and the swish of a door opening drew my attention. A nurse rushed in, her face a mask of professional concern. "Oh dear," she said gently but with urgency, "you've pulled out your IV. Let me take care of that."

She moved with practiced efficiency, her hands deftly repositioning the needle and securing it in place. Her touch was gentle, and I can't help but feel a pang of gratitude for her calm presence.

That's when my father and stepmother stirred from their sleep, their groggy eyes blinking open as they took in the scene.

"What's going on?" my father grumbled, his voice rough with irritation and sleep. "Why can't you just stay still?"

The words hit me like a physical blow, igniting the anger and frustration I was trying to suppress. "You think this is easy for me?" I snapped, my voice raw and hoarse. "You have no idea what this feels like!"

My father's face darkened, his eyes narrowed into slits. "I'm trying to help you, Nic," he said, his tone tinged with frustration. "We've done everything we can for you. You're not the only one who's lost someone important. You need to get over it. It's not that deep."

The anger that has been simmering inside me has boiled over. "It's not that deep?" I screamed, my voice echoing off the walls. "You think just because you put a roof over my head and feed me, that's enough?"

My father looked taken aback, his expression a mixture of anger and disbelief. "What more do you want?" he demanded, his voice rising. "You've got everything you need—food, money, a roof over your head. What else is there?"

"What else do I want?" I retorted, my voice trembling with emotion. "I want you to care! I want you to actually give a damn about what I'm going through!"

My father's face turned a deep shade of red, his anger palpable. "Don't you dare talk to me like that," he snapped. "I've done everything for you. This is how you repay me? By snorting powder like theres no tomorrow and then lecturing me about life, when really, you are ruining your own as we speak"

Ouch.

Before the argument escalated further, my stepmother interjected, her voice soft and soothing. "Let's give him some time," she suggested gently. "He's been through a lot. Maybe he just needs a little space."

My father's eyes narrowed, but he eventually nodded reluctantly. "Fine. But this isn't over boy" he said, his voice laden with frustration and threat.

They stepped out of the room, leaving me alone with the nurse. I was left seething, my mind racing with the remnants of the fight. The nurse gave me a sympathetic look before asking, "Do you want to see your friends? They've been waiting outside all night."

I blinked, trying to make sense of her words. "What time is it?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.

"It's 3 a.m.," she replied.

My heart sank. I have been unconscious for hours, and the realization that Matt has been waiting here all this time filled me with a pang of guilt. I nodded, too exhausted to speak, and the nurse stepped out to fetch him.

Moments later, Matt has walked in. His face has been etched with worry, and his eyes have widened as he took in the scene. "What the hell, Nic?" he exclaimed, his voice a mix of relief and exasperation. "You scared the shit out of me!"

I tried to muster a weak smile, but the effort was too much. "I'm sorry, Matt. I didn't mean to."

Matt pulled up a chair beside my bed, his expression softening as he took in my condition. "Don't apologize. Just... What happened?"

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my voice. "It's all a blur. I—I made a mess of things. My dad and stepmother... they don't get it. "

Matt's brow has furrowed in concern. "They really don't understand, do they?"

I shook my head, feeling the weight of everything crashing down on me.

Matt's face was a mixture of sadness and frustration. "I wish there was something more I could do. I'm really worried about you, Nic."

I looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes cutting through the fog of my own emotions. "I'm sorry for putting you through this. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Matt gave a reassuring nod, his hand resting on mine. "You don't have to worry about that. We'll get through this. I'm here for you, no matter what."

As the conversation continued, I felt a flicker of warmth in the midst of the cold, sterile environment. The connection with Matt, his unwavering support, felt like a lifeline.

The minutes stretched into what felt like hours as we talked, the intensity of the night slowly giving way to a semblance of calm. Matt's presence was a balm for my frayed nerves, and I found myself leaning on him more than I ever thought I would. His worry has been palpable, but so has his steadfast support.

Eventually, the nurse returned, checking on the IV and making sure everything was in place. She offered a few kind words and has assured me that the doctors will be by in the morning to discuss my recovery. Matt remained by my side, his eyes never leaving mine, as if trying to gauge my every emotion.

The room started to settle into a more subdued quiet, the earlier chaos now a distant memory. My father and stepmother were outside, giving me the space they think I need. I can only hope that this time apart will offer some clarity for all of us.

As Matt stood up to leave, he gave me a final, encouraging smile. "I'm going to grab some coffee," he said. "You need anything?"

I shook my head, a small, grateful smile tugging at my lips. "No, I'm good. Just... thanks for being here, Matt. It means a lot."

He nodded and started walking out, when he stopped at the door to say something "You've got one last visitor left, don't mess it up", then he disappeared behind the door leaving me startled.

That's when I heard a faint knock on the door.

knock knock knock

"It's me."