Thorns On My Rose: A Story of the Daughter of Robert Downey Jr. (EDITING)

Chapter 10 - "Who The Hell Are You?"

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John's Perspective

Two days. Forty eight hours. That's how long it's been since the accident. Since I last saw her. I can't leave, I can't ask questions, I can't shower or piss without help. It's just me and my imagination, all cooped up in this white room. And I'm terrified.

I jump when the red head of a nurse comes in. Same routine: every two hours or so, I get a pain killer and a sedative in my lap and a cup of water. I take them and sigh. The pills work fast and soon I'm out of it.

Ever since my stunt five days ago when I basically went all Thor on the hospital staff, I've been monitored by both a doctor and a psychiatrist every two hours. Like, all the time. Being sedated feels a lot like being drowsy, except I don't want to go to sleep. I just kind of sit here in this damn jail cell, pretending to watch the re-runs of The Office that they play. It feels like it's the same episodeover and over and over and over.... ugh.

All I think about is Rose. Her screaming in the ditch, us flying through the air and down the hill. Those brown eyes, lifeless. I have nightmares where she dies. My doctor, Henry, suggests that I see a shrink.

The nurse checks my vitals and takes the cup out of my hands, placing it on a small tray behind her before taking my blood pressure. She looks up at me and I raise an eyebrow.

"I hear you can get out tomorrow." She says with a smile. I look at the name tag she wears. 'Remy' it reads.

I smile. "Really?" I ask.

Remy laughs. "Yeah, you'll get to finally see your sister." She says warmly. I swallow. I've been telling them that Rose is my sister. It's the only way they would let me see her after I got out of here.

"Yeah." I agreed, forcing a smile. "Have you heard anything else...?" I whisper. Remy shakes her head sadly. She removes the pump from my arm and places it back on the wall behind me.

"Sorry, Dave." I blink. It's still weird to have these people calling me by a new name. I gave them a totally new slate, not using any of my past names. I was Dave Tollen, Alana-Rose's older brother.

Which, of course, was a big fat lie.

I nodded, waving her off. She patted my shoulder and went to get some more ointment for my gash. I felt at the bandage, wincing. The skin around my thigh was swollen and didn't bleed anymore but it was still now a blueish purple. I never looked at it, I almost threw up when I tried to the first time.

I leaned back into the hospital bed, trying not to remember, but also trying not to forget.

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Dr. Miller's Perspective

As I went down the the hall to the Intensive Care Unit of this hospital, I couldn't help but worry. I had been at John Adams Emergency Center for almost two decades now, I had seen so many things that sometimes haunted me. But, up until now, I had never been so concerned. Alana-Rose Tollen had Been admitted some time yesterday night, close to nine o clock. I knew her mother in the last year's of her life when I was working in New York for a few months. I moved back to San Diego shortly after she passed.

Her mother's case was curious in that the cancer had not been hereditary. Something that was rare with the specific kind of cancer she'd had. I always knew in the back of my head that there really was no way I could've saved her. But I still tried. I always did.

I can remember walking into her mother's small room, watching her as she watched the Tv screen, laughing hysterically.

Christy's blond hair was in a French braid that laid on her shoulder. The blue hospital gown was growing increasing baggy on her, I noticed and furrowed my brows. Her face was not as full as it had been three weeks ago but her blue, grey eyes still sparkled with a joy and contentment I had never witnessed before. I smiled and rapped on the door, she turned her head, putting the television on mute with the remote control.