The Way I Survived

Chapter Eight.

Chapter 8

Everything felt like it was in slow motion. The ride to the hospital seemed to take forever.

Barging through the hospital doors, being greeted by the unsettling smell that the hospitals usually contained, we rushed to the front desk.

“Trent Rosvert?” Chris urged without a greeting.

The lady at the front desk looked up from her screen monitor with an annoyed look on her face but when she saw the seriousness in Christopher’s eyes, she looked back at the monitor and typed out for a few moments looking for the information.

“Down the aisle, room 265. He’s in the ICU so you should take things slow.”

ICU? His situation was that extreme? My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. I was scared, so scared that I felt nauseous.

Sure Trent and I didn’t have a solid relationship, and the way he usually talked to me was basically some creepy pickup lines, but he’s family now, I care about him.

Finding the room, we entered quietly and delicately, like there’s a bomb about to explode if we didn’t take care.

Inside, it was like any other hospital room except for the many machines around the bed. On the bed was Trent who looked awful. His skin was ghostly pale, with bruises and cuts everywhere, the severe ones stitched. There was a tube in his mouth, helping him to breathe. His right hand and his left ankle were put in a case.

Overall, he looked like he was tossed out of a car on the highway, ran over by a truck, stepped on by a herd of cows then beaten up mercilessly.

I took a moment to thank God for saving him after all the cruel pain he’s been through, it must’ve been torturous.

 Proceeding slowly to the edge of his bed, I looked at him painfully as my eyes began to release a flood of uncontrollable tears. Christopher wrapped an arm around my shoulder, giving me comfort even though he himself needed someone to comfort him.

The door opened and in came Felix and Elena, both with sorrow in their eyes. “We just had a chat with the doctor; he informed us that Trent has some serious brain injury and it might be a while before he wakes up again,” said Elena, her voice cracking.

I hugged Elena tightly, allowing her to sob in my arms. I couldn’t cry, I needed to be strong for her.

Seconds turned to minutes and minutes to hours with the four of us just sitting there in the room, silently staring at Trent who lied motionless on the hospital bed. I texted Jordan every now and then, keeping them updated, which was basically nothing since there was no evident improvement or progress.

A couple of times I would’ve sworn I’ve seen his hand move but then I shake my head, knowing my brain is playing tricks on me.

It was getting dark outside when Christopher broke the deafening silence. “I’m going to take Amelia home to rest, she needs some.”

“Okay sweetie,” replied his mother, “good night.”

Once we were outside of the room, I turned and looked at Christopher. “I didn’t want to leave.”

“I know, but you need to rest, you look like a mess.”

I rolled my eyes, “gee, thanks.”

He chuckled softly. “A beautiful mess,” he said, kissing the side of my head.

I ducked my head, avoiding his gaze as my cheeks started to flame. The things this boy does to me.

He took my hand in his and interlaced our fingers. I looked up at him and smiled shyly at him. He smiled back adoringly and my heart skipped a beat. We walked silently to the car and got in. By the time we reached the house it was around midnight my eyes were drooping.