"Do you think she can still go to school?" I hear a female voice say. It was a steady voice, but I couldn't tell who it is. My ears felt like they were submerged in water. I had a familiar pounding in my head, but I didn't know what it was from. Even though my eyes were closed, I could tell that sunlight was beating down on my arm. It was morning? I could only remember Dean telling my mom about him.
I groaned when a sharp pain shot through my cheeks. How weird. They were stinging with an unknown pain. My ears sharpened and I could finally hear clearly. I quickly opened my eyes.
My mother was standing at the side of my bed, her face was so scared, I would have traded anything to change that. When she saw me slowly stretch my shoulders, her expression brightened. But it wasn't bright enough to hide her tiresome state.
My eyes roamed around the room. There was a man with dark skin and a beard standing at the foot of my bed. He was wearing a lab coat that reminded me of doctors. His eyebrows were furrowed with concern.
On the other side of me was Louis, I almost jumped at the sight of him. He had circles under his eyes form sleep-deprivation that I have never noticed. He gave a little smile, but it wasn't genuine, it felt wrong. His smile seemed to make my lip twitch in disgust for a second.
"We were so worried about Alessandra, your friend," she winked discreetly making me guess she was talking about Dean, "brought you home last night. He had to carry you. You had a gash--" Her voice cracked, making my heart break. "On your cheek. It was numerous gashes. Your shirt was soaked in blood and you wouldn't wake up." A tear slipped down her cheek.
"Your friend--He--His face, it was cut and bruised. He almost broke his rib and could barely carry you home," she started crying. Everyone was silent, letting her finish her story.
"But, your other friend," her voice was thick and it slowed down, "He--Spencer. His hands were bloody and I almost thought he was the one to do this to you," her voice was turning into a whisper, "I was so scared. I thought you were dead." My mother's hands shake and my heart rips from her pain and the story she was telling. This was the first time I heard any of this.
"What happened that night?" Her voice was a harsh whisper, her face a red damp mess. I so desperately wanted to tell her, but I couldn't. When I tried to think of any night time activities that would involve Dean, or "Spencer," and some other guy, I blank out. A fear rose in my throat thinking of me alone with two boys. God, I wish I remembered.
"I--I don't...," my voice was shaky and my tongue felt thick in my mouth. A dizzy wave was blocking my head from coordinating with my mouth. The clothes I wore were sweaty and bloody. My heart raced when I saw the unfamiliar blood. Why don't I remember putting on these clothes? "What day is it?" I ask, my head slowly thawing. I remember Sunday clearly, but nothing after.
"It's Wednesday," the man at the front of my bed says. His voice reminded my of Morgan Friedman because it was so deep and serious. "I'm Doctor Dee," he adds, but I was too shocked to laugh at his name.
"Wednesday? I thought it would be Monday. I felt so disoriented. What about school? I probably missed so much and I need to--" I cut myself off. I needed to find Dean. Where was he? Who was with us that night? I held back from asking because Louis was in the same room. He was looking at me curiously, something flickered behind his brown eyes.
"Need to what?" He asks.
"I have homework and need to catch up," I said quickly. He raised an eyebrow. I looked away from him and noticed Chloe creeping into the room. Her face was tear-stricken and scared as if I were a monster. I wanted to hug her, make her feel calm again. The look on her face chilled me to the bone.
