I'm in Love...with a Rockstar (MCR)

Chapter Thirty-Three: Struggling

Pierce's POV

Dreams. Horrid, horrid dreams. Nightmares. Bed turners. Horrible, terrifying dreams. Dreams of things you could never imagine. Things like death. Death. Death.

Nightmares. Blood boiling horrors. Unimaginable fears.

Monsters.

These are the things haunting my visions every-time I close my eyes. Or don't open them. It seems like years, that these terrible images swim through my head. And when I do finally wake up, my head is pounding, I am swimming in a pool of sweat, and I can't stop screaming.

I don't even notice Frank, Gee, or Ray. I can't see anything. My eyes are still glued to where I saw the last horror and it isn't over yet. I am being shaken. Someone is shaking me.

My eyes are open but I can't see.

Then suddenly, I can. My dream ends and I am in a hospital, my vision is distorted and blurred. I can see shapes of what seem to be people, rushing around and one messing with my I.V. line. I blink but nothing clears. I have no memory of why I am here at first. Nothing comes when I pull at my mind. What happened? Who am I? Is this really a hospital, or just a start to another horror?

Then everything clicks. My vision clears slightly and my memories come flooding back. A screech of tires. A hard slam. Blackness.

Mikey!

I turn my head and sweep my eyes across the room, but he isn't standing anywhere like the other times I was in the hospital. Where was he? Was he okay? Was he ever alive?

With my still slightly blurry vision, I see a patch of bright red waltz across the room and stand next to me, grasping my hand. Only when he gets close to me, do I see it's my brother-in-law. I smile, or I try to smile. I can't though. The muscles in my face refuse to move. I try to make my face confused, which is the emotion I am feeling right now, but I can't. My eyebrows won't knit. I can't frown. I can't smile. What the hell is happening?

"Pierce?" He asks, his face worried.

I open my mouth to respond but I can't form words. My mind blanks again and I am suddenly staring into the face of a stranger. A man with red hair, a worried expression. He is holding my hand. Tightly. I try to pull it out. My hand twitches but my arm refuses to obey the mental command. Another man approaches. He had greasy black hair, and can't be taller than 4' 9". He looks at me, also with concern. His mouth opens, moves, but no sound emerges. He turns his head and apparently shouts something to someone else. A man with a large, frizzy brown Afro walks into the room and dashes up to the side of my bed. Or what I think is my bed. He begins to shout at me. I can't hear him. My ears are broken. Do I even have ears?

He slams his hands on the plastic railing at the end of the bed. I hear a faint, echoing thud after he does. Who are these people? Why are they all gathered around me and why, why am I in a hospital? The afro one continues to scream at me, trying to get me to respond or something. The one with the red hair presses a blue button behind the head of the bed. A nurse, or what I interpret to be a nurse. She runs over to me and claps her hands and snaps her fingers by my ears. I don't respond. The one with the black, greasy hair seems to come up with an idea. He walks over and tells her. She calls to another nurse and that nurse leaves. I wait, my blurry vision glitching like a video game and making everything very hard to see. I squint, or I try to, but nothing happens.

I have no idea how much time passes. But after a while, the second nurse comes back in. She is pushing a bed. When I see his face, everything floods back. My vision straightens and my memories rush back into my like a wave. His face is pale, the pink scar trailing across his face. My beautiful, amazing husband.