Beautiful Lives

Chapter 29

Chapter 29 - Flight (Lifehouse)

An hour later, I was lying in my bed again, my wig and makeup off, my dress neatly put away. My mind was racing with all of the amazing memories of the night, and I could almost feel myself glowing with how happy I was.

It had been hands down the best night of my life – to call it a dream prom was putting it mildly. I curled up in a ball on my side, watching out the window as the stars twinkled in the distance. My eyes drifted closed, and then shot back open as an overwhelming pain shot through my body.

I crumpled into myself, whimpering slightly as I grabbed onto my head. Nothing helped – any position I twisted myself into was more painful than the last. My lungs started to labor, and I felt like my throat was closing in on itself.

My mom had left a bell on my bedside table for exactly this sort of situation, so I reached out and rang it as loudly as I could. Seconds later, the door burst open, and my brother came running in, kneeling beside me as I writhed in agony.

"Hang on, Lex," he said, pulling my cannula out and exchanging them for my oxygen mask. "Keep breathing," he put his hand on top of my head and locked his eyes onto mine. "You're okay,"

My parents flew through the doorway, and the lights came on. There was a flurry of activity – Ryder was grabbing my suitcase for the hospital, my mom was on the phone with the doctor, my dad was lifting me into his arms and holding the mask over my face. I closed my eyes, and squeezed them as tightly as I could, in a weak attempt to block out the flooding light that only made it harder to breathe.

I felt my dad running down the stairs, and seconds later, we were in the car. I lay on my side, my head on someone's lap. I kept my eyes closed and my hands over my ears, fading in and out of consciousness as the car moved.

I must have been out when we reached the hospital, because I closed my eyes one second, and the next, I was lying in a bright white room, with needles sticking out of my arms and hands. I tried to move, and a heavy layer of comforters rustled around my ankles. My vision was still blurry, and I could barely breathe, but I still reached for the oxygen mask covering my mouth, and pulled it away.

"Lexi?" I heard my mom's tired voice fill with relief, and a cool hand gently rested on my cheek as I tried to form the words I so desperately wanted to say.

"Mom," I whispered, my hand finding hers. I blinked a few times, clearing as much grit out of my eyes as I could. Once I could finally get my bearings, I scanned the room and took in what I could. My brother was standing in the hallway outside, his head hung as one of the doctors talked to him. My mom was sitting right beside me, her face covered with tears and blotchy red spots. My dad was hovering nervously behind her, and even though he was acting strong, I could see his hands visibly shaking.

"Lexi, we love you so much, sweetheart," my mom said, her voice catching on every other word. "We love you, and we're all here, and we're not going to leave you,"

The door to the room creaked open, and Ryder walked back in. He looked rattled, and I knew he'd been crying. He pulled up a chair beside my mom, and took my other hand so that we formed an awkward triangle.

My dad leaned forward and kissed my cheek, his hand gently stroking the top of my bare head.

"I love you," he whispered, next to my ear. I nodded, unsure if I'd be able to form words without expending too much energy. He bowed his head, and through the corner of my eye, I could see that he and my mom were holding hands, as if the gap between them had never even existed.

In a way, it felt like a sign. No matter what anyone said, the divorce had been my fault, and I'd blamed myself for it for years. And now, as I lay in bed, getting closer to the end every second, they were coming back together. We might have been a broken family for years, but for one shining minute, we were whole again. And maybe that was why I knew it was time to let go.

The beeping on the heart rate monitor started to slow down, and my family looked panicked. But for some reason, it didn't terrify me. The pain was gone, and even though I was barely able to get any air, I knew that everything was going to be okay.

"You can go," my mom whispered, her words filling the room. "You can go, Lexi, it's okay," she took a deep rattling breath, and bit her lip, trying to form the words.

I let my eyes drift shut, and I held onto my mom's and brother's hands as tightly as I could. The noises of the hospital started to drain away, and the world I loved so much slowly started to fade to black. The unknown was stretching in front of me, but it wasn't scary anymore, because in that moment, I was free like I'd never been before.