Ignorance Is Bliss

11 . Marion

My head hurt. Badly. My first thought was a hangover, but I had no memory of drinking any alcohol the day before. I was too lazy to open my eyelids. They felt tremendously heavy like I hadn't slept for days. All I wanted was to go back to sleep. However, the high pitched beeping made it a challenge. Sometimes I used to hear this shrill sound, but it only lasted a few seconds. This tone sounded deeper and was consistently beeping. I also couldn't remember my bed being so damn uncomfortable. Did I end up going to Raven's party after all and had imagined the past month? I hoped not.

The beeping carried on. I had enough. I opened up my eyes a slit.

Everything was so white, that it made my eyes hurt more than they already did. My surroundings were blurry at first, but I could still make out the objects. The room was fairly empty, with just this bed and an armchair on my left side. But what caught my attention the most was the IV attached to my wrist. I also couldn't remember wearing a white wristband with my name on it. Now that I properly looked around, it was clear where I was. I was in a damn hospital.

Fear suddenly overtook me and I frantically tried searching for a broken or missing limb. I moved my legs and arms, but as far as I could see I hadn't lost anything. There were only two plasters on my arms. Maybe because they had taken blood. I felt a sharp pain around my head, making me bite down hard on my teeth. I carefully felt my head, scared to touch any potential holes I might have. My fingers pressed into something soft.

Oh. A bandage. I followed it all around my head. It was wide, starting from the top of my forehead until above my eyebrows. It didn't hurt when I traced the bandage, although the back of my head felt a bit sore.

Gee. I didn't even want to know what had happened. Before I ended up here I was... wait a second. What had I been doing before today? How many days had passed since I was in the hospital?

The door on the left-hand side swung open. I jerked my head towards it, regretting it immediately as the dull headache was exacerbated. A dark mop of hair accompanied by a worried face, peeked around the side. My stomach flipped. Amidst all this chaos I felt endlessly happy to see someone I trusted. Asa's gaze fell on the bed I was lying in, seeing if I was awake or not. Our eyes met. He took in a sharp breath.

"You're awake," he said, more to himself than to me, as if he was reassuring himself, that he wasn't hallucinating.

I nodded, smiling a little.

He was by my side in an instant, crouching next to me. I wasn't sure why he didn't just sit on the chair beside me. Now that he was closer I noticed a deep cut, that stretched out across his forehead. His hand was warm when he held onto mine. His hold was so gentle like he was afraid of hurting me. Although it was sweet of him, I hated this feeling that overcame me. This feeling of being a porcelain doll, that would break under the touch of anything.

Asa didn't look well. I mean, he always had eyebags, but today they seemed particularly dark. It felt unfair how that was the only hint of exhaustion. His hair wasn't messy. He wasn't wearing sweats. His face wasn't pale.

I scolded myself, as soon as I started judging him. When my mum died, I looked terrible. My eyes were puffy for days, I rarely got any sleep and my face had taken on an awful sickly shade. Dad hadn't shown much of a reaction. Although the sorrow in his eyes felt stronger than the feeling my appearance gave off. Still, up until now, I wasn't sure he had even processed her death properly.

Oh God. Dad.

My heartbeat quickened, making the beeping sound of the heart monitor accelerate. He must've been worrying himself sick all this time. Wait, all this time? How long was I unconscious?

I tried speaking, but all that came out was a croak. Asa finally sat on the chair and handed me a bottle of water like he knew that I'd be needing it. I swallowed down the cold liquid, making my throat sting. I cleared my voice, but when I spoke, it sounded like I'd been screaming for hours.