***One month later***
Everything's blurry. There's someone in the corner, and the walls are all white. There's a light shining in my face and I don't like it. I can make out shapes and colors, but not objects yet. It's getting clearer. "Where am I?"
"You're awake. Omg. Hey, everyone. She's awake. Omg I love you so much." A familiar voice said. I knew that voice no matter what. It was Angel. I can make out a bunch of people running into the room at the same time. "She's awake. Finally. I feel so relieved."
"Where am I?" I repeated in hopes that someone would answer me.
"You're in the hospital, baby." My dad said.
"Why? What happened?" I asked. I'm shaking. I'm scared. What happened to me?
"You've been in a coma for the past month. We've all been here since you were put in the hospital. Everyone missed school and/or work for you. We love you, Ashley. Don't EVER do that again, you hear me?" Angel said.
" Yeah, Now can someone please tell me what the fuck happened to me?"
"Yes. I can." Angel said pushing through the crowd that seemed to have engulfed her. "We don't exactly know what set you off but--"
"AHHHH. Why is my leg bandaged, and my head. Oh my God, what happened to me." I screamed.
"I'm trying to tell you, you have to calm down first." She said. I took a deep breath and calmed down. "Like I said, we don't know what set you off, but you went insane. They think it was your bipolar issue, and the fact that you stopped taking your meds set you off, but then they thought you were having a depression episode. Anyway, it was your birthday and we were going to get Deja. We pulled into her driveway and you went to knock on her door. No one answered so you came back to the car and burst into tears. You then started driving home and ran into the house and locked yourself into the bathroom. You swallowed a bunch of your bipolar meds at once and cut yourself. You faded in and out of consciousness for about 20 minutes, and ended up hitting your head on the sink. When we heard a thump on the ground we broke the bathroom door and found you on the ground. I cried, Ashley. I cried the whole month for you. The doctors kept saying you weren't going to make it. I had a feeling you would, but more of me knew you probably weren't going to. You were in a horrible condition to begin with. It's not completely better, but it's a little better than the day it happened. Deja's here. She feels like it's her fault this happened." Angel started crying. "I feel like it's my fault too. I let my best friend be upset and I didn't try to help her. What kind of friend am I?"
"Angel, what I did had nothing to do with you nor Deja. Neither of you did anything wrong. I remember parts of what happened now. It was nobodies fault. I promise. I was going through a lot. I was trying to make everyone happy. Everyone except myself, and it finally got to me. I'm sorry for worrying you guys. I'm an idiot, what much more do you expect from me?"
"Hey, don't talk about my girlfriend like that." Bennie said.
"Your...girlfriend?" I asked.
"Yes, you don't remember me writing you a letter asking you to be my girlfriend, and then later that day explaining to you the last year and a quarter of our high school experience together?" Bennie said. He looked hurt.
"Uh, of course I do." I said in hopes that he'd believe me. I feel bad for not remembering. I feel bad for worrying everyone. I feel bad for being an idiot.
Just then the doctor came in. He said "She may have some amnesia. Her brain isn't working properly since she hit her temple on the bathroom sink. She may not remember certain things. I'm actually surprised she has remembered as much as she has with how bad this amnesia is for her."
"That's why she doesn't remember. Ugh. I just spent a whole month out of my life sitting by your bed telling you I love you, and praying you get better for no reason. Fuck this. Why did you have to do it?" Bennie said.
"I didn't mean it. I'm sorry, Bennie." I started crying.
"No, don't cry. You're a fake bitch. Had me thinking you actually cared about me. Funny you can remember what happened, how you ended up in the hospital, and who's fault t is, but you can't remember who you're dating? I'm obviously not that important to you. You're an attention whore. No you're just a whore in general. I hate your fucking guts. Don't EVER talk to me again." He paused. Probably waiting for me to respond, but I can't. I'm unable to open my mouth or make the simplest noises. Everything begins to be blurry again, and all the sounds are now gone.
