Chasing Cars

Chapter Five

The ambulance arrived quickly. "Excuse me, Miss, can you tell me what happened?" A kind paramedic asked me, his face showing concern as he looked from me to the mini McDonalds that was this room. I was shaking with fear from Charleston's threat, that and the pain raking my body with every breath. "I - I was walking...and I didn't notice the..uh..stairs so I fell. Dr. Charleston noticed me..and..uh then she called you," I lied. I figured it would be better to just lie and tell them what Charleston planned on saying anyway. Better one lie now than my life in the near future, God would understand.

The paramedic, who's nametag said "Elliot" nodded his head slowly, scanning the room one more time. He didn't look convinced, which made me nervous.I didn't want him guessing what had really happened and then Charleston coming back for me later. I didn't need that kind of stress in my life.

As I was put in the ambulance, Elliot injected me with some sort of drug that made my vision blurry and my brain felt dumb and powerless. I felt myself drifting into sleep, and my first thought was "no Karev you can't sleep, not now" but I didn't do anything to stop myself from slipping under the dark wave of sleep.

***Dreaming***

I was confused. White. Everywhere. All I could see for miles was nothing but white, I couldn't even tell where the floor met the sky...or whatever this place was. I was dressed the same as I am now, only the clothes aren't blood stained. I'm in a wheelchair, and I can't figure out how to navigate it quite right. Frustrated, I leaned back and attempted to get somewhere.

The only thing telling me I'm moving is the way my hair lightly rises with each shove of the wheels, other than that, I have no way of knowing if I'm moving or stating still.

This is so...weird. What's going on!?

I look around, there is no one. I'm the only one here. That's when I notice a small gray square in the air nearby. Well, I think its the air until I reach it. Its a window, on the wall.

Thankfully its low enough that I can see into it from my chair. The picture through the window makes me jump slightly, and cause me to get chills. A man wearing a red shirt and jeans with rust colored stains that I fear is blood, is walking toward something - no, someone. The someone he's walking toward is my father. He huddles against the wall, eyes wide and staring at something silver and shiny in the hand of the man dressed in red.

A quick stab.

Then I wake up.

***End of Dream***

I jolt awake. Sweaty and scared, I look around the unfamiliar room. Preparing to leap out of this bed and see what's going on, I remembered what had happened. Science, being called to the office, finding out what I had about Charleston, the ambulance. Everything.

Then I remembered trying to stand and I looked at my legs, which were just lumps under the white sheet. I nervously tried wiggling my toes. Nothing. Not a single movement, none at all. Tears streamed down my face. I tried bending my knees to make an attempt at sitting up, still nothing. I'm paralyzed, I thought to myself. My spinal cord is broken and I'm paralyzed.

I took a sobbing breath, letting the tears fall and not caring at all who may or may not be listening. I could sue Charleston. Sue her for everything she's got. No you can't, stupid. Right. The cover-up story. For all the doctors knew, I had fallen dfowm the stairs due to lack of attention. They had no idea it was the hands of Charleston that had done it.

I didn't want to cry, but I couldn't help it as the realization that I'd never walk again sunk in. There would be no track or racing. Not even stairs. Elevators would be all I had. Those and ramps. How would I ever be independent? I'd rely on people for everything I did.

The Clomp of shoes on the linoleum floor caused me to pause my mental breakdown and look up. A nurse came in and sat on a chair.

"Miss Karev," she began.

"That's me."

"I'm Izzie, and I'm about to tell you some words you may not want to here."

"If its about me being paralyzed, I know. I can't move from the waist down."

"Yes...and I'm very sorry for that. But this is about your father."

"My father?"

"Yes, Miss Grey. Your father is dead. He was killed from a stab wound to the heart two hours ago."

Dead. My father, Richard Grey, was dead. From a stab wound. Honestly I couldn't have cared less, he was always abusing me and telling me how useless I'd be in the drug business.

No, I didn't care that he was dead. I cared that now I was the head of the drug warehouse. My father and my mother told me when I was thirteen that the business would be mine as soon as my father was dead. If my mother was still alive, she would help me run things, but it would be my own company to handle.

I had been okay with it then, I had accepted my fate of being a drug dealer. At least it had meant that there was no need for college, once I was done with high school then I was set.

But now, that fate didn't appeal to me as much. I wanted to make something of myself. Not sit on a couch all day collecting orders from drunks and addicts as they wanted their meth or cocaine.

Back at home, my mother had spent the day teaching me how to run the company's empire from the laptop. I was hot and irritated, not caring at all for what I was seeing on the screen.

"Richard liked using this label on the liquor...he said it sold the most...."

My mother's droning voice was giving me a right awful headache. Every time she mentioned my father she began to weep and had to take a break from the lesson.

I sat boredly through her entire sermon until 10:30 at night, when she told me that she was tired and wanted to sleep. This was fine by me, I was beyond caring about anything.

I headed back downstairs using the ramp my mom had bolted onto the steps, and my phone began to ring. "Hey Karev!" Sue said happily. I still hadn't told her what happened after the meeting with Charleston, for all she knew I was sick with pneumonia.

"Hey what's up?" I asked.

"I have a church camp this weekend, its about hardships in the lives of teenagers. Want to come if you're feeling better?"

Well, Sue's church camps were always great fun and they delivered a wonderful message, and I had already left so much out to Sue recently, I agreed.

"Cool, see you Friday Karev!"

Then she hung up.