Big Time Pain

Chapter 11

“Good news, young lady!  You’ve healed quite a bit and your brain functions are steadily returning to normal.  You can leave at 5:00 this evening.  You have a ride, right?”  Dr. Stuck tells her in the morning, sun high in the sky already.

“Oh my god!!!  Really?  I can leave?  YAY!!!  And, yeah, I’ll call my friends.  They’ll come get me.  Can I start packing?  I don’t have much, but I want to look presentable…” I toss aside the covers, ready to jump out of bed and throw my toothbrush and other odds and ends things the hospital provided for me in a bag, but she stops me.

“Oh, no.  You need to stay in bed until you leave tonight.  You’re still too fragile right now.  You’ll also have to leave in a wheelchair because I imagine with your brain the way it is, you’ll probably have a hard time staying level and walking without falling over or losing your focus.  The best thing is to keep you a couple more days, so if you want to…”

“Hell no!!!  Sorry, Doctor, but I’m going home tonight.  I’ve been here for what seems like ever, so if it’s ok, I’m leaving.”  I look at her expectantly.

“Of course.  Just take it easy the next few days and you’ll be back on your feet in no time.  Ok?  Stay in bed until one of the nurses or I tell you you can get up and get dolled up for your boyfriend, ok?” 

“Fine.  Wait, I don’t have a boyfriend!  Are you talking about Carlos?  Oh, no.  We’re not…no…um, what do you know exactly?”  I can feel my cheeks redden.

“Just that you have a boy very dear to your heart that wants to take care of you, so let him.  If he wants to be your slave, let him.  I’ll see you later, ok?  Get some rest.  You have an emotional evening ahead of you.”  A polite smile appears on her face as she turns, closing the door behind her with a small ‘click.’ 

I can hardly keep myself in bed.  I get to leave today!  Frankly, I’ve never been so excited in my entire life!  Just gotta wait and be good, or they won’t let me go home.  I can be good for…I look at the clock on my bedside stand.  11:36…5 ½ hours, I think.  I close my eyes.  I can be good if I’m sleeping, so might as well take a nap.  I hope Carlos comes today.  I mean, he will if I call, but I don’t know his number…wow, I’m really losing it.  God only knows…

“Are we there yet?  I wanna get this over with,” Carlos whines from the back seat.

“Carlos!  You ask one more time, and so help me god, I will come back there and beat the crap out of you.  Now, shut up or I will leave you on the side of the road!!”  Logan is more than irritated.  Carlos is acting so weird and it both confuses and irks Logan.

“Fine,” Carlos whines, sinking down in the seat, sending the whole car a sense of déjà vu.

By the time they arrive at Rocque Records, they all know it’s a mistake.  One step into the building and all they can see is rubble…broken records, awards, walls, and posters; anything Gustavo could get his hands on.

“I think we should go now…” James suggests, turning on his heel quickly.

“No.  I’m going to apologize and then we can go.  Ok?  Give me two minutes and then we can leave.”  Carlos leaves the guys behind as he walks into Gustavo’s office.  After about 10 minutes of what sounds like nonstop violence, Carlos comes out, shiny new black eye and bloody lip, with a smirk on his face.

“Well, good news, fellas.  We got our jobs back!  Unfortunately, we need to pull an all-nighter tonight and all day tomorrow before we get back on schedule, but it’s ok!  We’re back in business!”  Carlos claps his hands together happily.

“That’s great…I guess?  Ok, Carlos.  Now where?  Lemme guess…hospital?”  Logan flinches just thinking about having to drive pushy Carlos there.

“Nah.  Can we go home for a nap first?  If I go visit her, there won’t be enough time to sleep before coming back here to Rocque Records.”

“Oh, ok.  Sure.”  He lets out an inconspicuous sigh.

“Oh, and Logan?  Kendall?  James?  Thanks.  For everything.  Sorry I’ve been pushy lately.  I don’t really know how to deal with all these new feelings.  Sorry, guys.  Thanks again.”  Carlos pats Logan’s shoulder before turning around and limping out the front door towards the car.

“Huh.  Old Carlos is still in there somewhere.  Nice to know…” Kendall says to Logan and James, trailing them out the door to meet Carlos and go back to the Palmwoods for their last rest for 36 hours.

When I finally wake up, it’s 4:29.  The nurses say I can start packing.  I’ve never been happier or felt more invincible in my life.  Every time I get excited and hurry, though, I almost fall over and my vision goes fuzzy, but it’s all worth it because I get to sleep in my own bed again tonight and Carlos is taking me home.  Home.  What a wonderful place.  After packing, it’s about 6 ‘til 5:00 p.m. and Carlos still isn’t here.  I sit patiently on my bed, crossing and uncrossing my legs as hour after hour pass.  Next thing I know, it’s 8:42 p.m. and still no sign of my darling hero.  My eyelids flutter shut more than once, but so far I’ve managed to stay awake, hoping he comes any second.

“Dear, it looks like you’re going to have to stay tonight, too.  I’m deeply sorry.  Do you need help getting around for bed?”  The night nurse asks.

I shake my head, unable to speak for the lump in my throat.  He forgot about me.  He said he’d come see me today and he didn’t.  Now I’m stuck here for another night.  If I have to stay here again tomorrow night, I just may go insane.  I can’t stand this.  Apparently Dr. Stuck is happy I stayed so I can heal in a controlled environment, but that means squat to me.  I’d rather die than be left here alone when my Carlos PROMISED to come.  He promised.  I want to go home!  Well, scratch that.  I want to go to the place I’ve called home for the past week, but now I have friends:  people willing to beat up all the people who’ve beat ME up.  It’s reassuring, but I need to go back.  I don’t belong here.  I don’t remember who or what put me here, but I want to leave desperately.  And my only chance of escape didn’t arrive.  Better luck next time, I guess.  So I reluctantly crawl back into bed, being reattached to various monitors by the kind night nurse, and cry myself to sleep like the childish girl I am.  I have a right, though.  The only person I thought cared about me left me.  What did I do?  I fall asleep with my face buried in a tear-stained pillow.