The Fall of the Aftons

172: Michael Afton

Michael sat in a chair by his hospital room window, staring out at the more urban part of Hurricane. Noah was dead. He had been for a few days now. The minute that Michael woke up in the ICU at the hospital, Mister Wright was helping him out of his bed and into Noah's room.

But they were too late.

When they entered the room, all of the machines attached to Noah were screaming and flatlining. The doctors didn't try to bring him back, either. He was too far gone. He had lost too much blood and there was too much irreparable damage. Even if they could have brought him back, he wouldn't have lasted long.

His death was inevitable.

But it didn't make his death hurt any less.

The Wright family kept trying to help Michael with his grief and extreme emotions. But they couldn't. Not when he couldn't find it in him to mutter a simple, "Hi." One of the psychiatrists in the psych ward claimed he was traumatically mute. He said it should be temporary, but they weren't sure how long it would last. It could last days, it could last months... It could even last years.

Somebody knocked on Michael's hospital room door and opened it. Whoever was at the door let out a heavy sigh as they closed it behind them.

"Michael, we've talked about this," the familiar voice of his primary doctor, Doctor Ingissroy, said disappointedly. "You're not supposed to leave your bed, especially without assistance. If you keep walking on your broken leg, you're only going to—"

He cut her off, pointing to the wheelchair he'd used to get out of his hospital bed and into the chair he was sitting in. He didn't bother looking at her; he knew that she understood what he was trying to say.

"Are you trying to tell me that you used the wheelchair to get out of bed?" she asked, making sure that's what he meant.

He nodded his head, still not looking at her.

She laughed, then sighed, making her way over to him. "I guess that's a little better than walking. But it's still likely to do more damage. I wish that I didn't have to make this threat, but if you get out of bed again, I'll have to restrain you to it. Do you understand?"

He nodded again.

She chuckled softly. "I'll let you stay in the chair for now since you have visitors. But the second they leave, I'm coming back to help you into your bed. Understand?"

He nodded yet again.

"Okay, good. Are you ready to see your guests? Or do you want a few minutes before I let them in?"

He hesitantly signed, Ready. Thankfully, when the Wrights were informed about his sudden mutism, they showed her and his primary nurses some vital signs in ASL. Thank goodness that they had a Deaf daughter, or else he wouldn't have had any way to communicate with anyone since his dominant hand was broken.

"Okay." The door opened and he could hear footsteps come into the room. "Keep an eye on his expression," she told his guests. "With all of his injuries, the second his pain medications wear off, he's in excruciating pain pretty much instantly. But he's terrible at telling us when he's in pain so we can give him more meds, so if he looks like he's in pain, come find me. They should be wearing off pretty soon."

"Of course," Alexandrai's familiar voice said.

"Anyway, I'll leave you three alone now. If you need anything, find me or a nurse and we'll help you out." And the door slammed shut.

"Sounds like you've been causing trouble, ay, Michaelito?"

Michael whipped his head around when he heard his special nickname. His eyes landed on Drai and Felicity, both of them standing in front of the door.