Eyes Wide Shut

Chapter 12

Anxiously waiting outside that bleak, hopeless waiting room, I sat frozen in my chair. I knew there were other people there, staring at me, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at them. My mind was blank, but my heart was racing and a weight was building in my chest. My head was buried in my hands that rested on my legs that felt paralyzed. I was in a daze, unable to think about anything but a life without Mollie Elizabeth King. Dim, boring and dreary. They always say “you don’t know what you had until it’s gone.” Mollie brought color, excitement and laughter into my life. And most importantly, she brought love. True, passionate, carefree love. I couldn’t imagine my life without her. I didn’t want to have to think about a life without her.

The doctor’s feet enter my line of sight and I slowly release my head from the cradle of my hands and lift it to meet the doctor’s eyes. My eyes full of worry as a glisten forms from the tears that wait to fall.

“Francesca Sandford?” A doctor asked me at a comfortable distance away from me. She was wearing blue scrubs with a white medial coat draped over; Mollie’s medical sheet in hand. I sprang to my feet at her words.

“How is she?” The desperation clear in my voice.

“She lost a lot of blood and has a severe concussion.”

I held my breath, terrified of the words that could come out of her breath. My air ways became tight and my head heavy.

“But she will be okay…”

An immediate sigh of relief rushed through my body.

“Really?” 

“Really. And if she would have gotten here any later, we may have lost her…”

The thought is hard to swallow.

 “Now, it might be 5 minutes or 5 hours until she wakes up, but there are no signs of internal bleeding or her slipping into a coma. We gave her some meds so she is not in pain when she awakes.”

She paused, noticing that I was processing the information.

“You saved her life, Francesca.”

I nodded, in shock. I let the words sink in. The doctor pats me on the shoulder.

I swallow.

“Where is she?”

The doctor nodded and led me down the hallway. We reach the door and she sticks her arm out, directing me into the room. I quicken my pace into the room. Her frail body draped in a hospital gown as she lies perched up on the bed. Her eyes resting closed and her bruised arms lying on each side of her body. The gash on her forehead has been stitched up, but the residue of blood is still stained around her face. Shades of purple begin to form around her cheekbone. I sat in the chair next to the bed and placed my hands around her hand that was closest to me. I lightly squeeze it, grateful she was alive and then bring it closer to my face, placing a gentle, delicate kiss against her perfectly manicured hand. The sight of her body attached to ventilators pained me, but I was grateful for the consistent sound informing me she was still alive. As much as it made me sick to see her like this, I continued to hold her hand, refusing to let her go.

***

About two hours have gone by, the TV providing the only source of light in the dark room. And I’m still there, holding her hand. I’m a nervous wreck; my nails were all bitten off. Why hasn’t she woken up yet? The longer I waited, the more I started to second guess the doctor.

I heard footsteps coming from behind me. These weren’t the sounds of generic shoes pounding on the floor. More like a pair of expensive, leather dress shoes. I look over my shoulder. He stops a the end of the bed, staring at Mollie’s body in disbelief and lets out a loud exhale, like the site has knocked the wind out of him. Before I have time to utter a word, he rushes out of the room; I chase after him. Once outside the door, he turns the corner and stops, gripping his hair like he was going to pull it out.