Bittersweet Agony

Chapter 5

I woke up in the same bed that I woke up in earlier that morning. Or was it the morning before? What day was it? Had I slept a whole day?

Questions swirled my brain as I tried to conjure memories of what had happened.

Refusing to follow the orders of whatever doctor or caretaker I'm sure was supposed to be looking over me and telling me not to move, I slowly pushed myself to a sitting position and swung my feet over the side of the bed.

Testing my weight out on my feet, I was glad to see at least they still seemed to work. That was a good sign.

I made my way to a mirror hanging on the wall across the room, and noticed bandages covering my body. My left eye had stitches lining just above my eyebrow. I could barely see clear skin underneath all the bruises. My nose was definitely broken from the looks of it, and my head was too dizzy to even attempt counting the cuts peppering my body.

My injured arm was yet again in a clean bandage, and it seems I must've torn my stitches before, because it felt different. The entire upper portion of my arm was a sickening blue/black color, whether from the broken bone still healing or the bullet wound I can't be sure.

I lifted my shirt to inspect the wounds on my stomach, and my hand slowly trailed across my broken abdomen. Scars criss-crossed my skin.

Scars from traffickers, scars from the trafficked, scars from men, scars from women, scars from hands, scars from weapons, drunken scars, sober scars; you name it, I had it.

I was observing one bruise in particular just below my rib cage when a knock sounded on my door and I jumped.

Pulling my shirt down as quickly as I could, I was brought back to reality and away from the nightmares of my past.

"Come in." I called out to the door.

A girl whom I'd never seen before entered the room, and she didn't look to be much older than 30.

"Ah, ms. Nazzari, you're awake. How are you feeling?" Obviously a doctor. I hate doctors.

"Fine." I lied.

"Well you had quite the accident. Do you remember what happened?" She asked innocently.

She was too nice. This is what I hated about doctors. Even in the worst of times they're so oblivious to what's happening right in front of them. They're always cheery even when the world is crashing down around them.

"I remember." I answer plainly.

"You should lay back down, you need to rest. Would you like me to tell you your injuries?" She smiled politely.

"If you must."

"Well you had already had a broken arm that looks to be from a few weeks ago. On top of that, you were shot just a couple days ago, which added to the bruising, and causing you to need stitches. I fixed your stitches, by the way. They came out yesterday. As for your other wounds, you suffered a broken nose, as well as a fractured jaw and cheekbone on the right side. There was a lot of swelling, so it looks much worse than it is, I promise. You have a black eye also, but that should heal up quickly. There's a small cut above your eye that needed stitches, but nothing too serious. I believe that's it, if I'm not mistaken." Even delivering terrible, horrific news she still seemed as happy and bubbly as ever. Disgusting.

"Thank you." I answered, even though I just wanted her to leave.

"Overall, I think with some rest and proper healing, you should be fine and back to normal in just a few weeks. Luckily there was no internal bleeding, although there are quite a few nasty bruises on your stomach." She said that like it's a good thing. Like I'm lucky to only have a few bruises. Although, I suppose I was. "Do you have any questions?" She asked brightly.