The Mistake [Norman Reedus] Book One {{COMPLETED}}

Chapter 11

We rode up to the site in a small, hot taxi that let us out and sped off.  We were just in time to see Norman being lifted into a stretcher that was rolled into a close ambulance.  A couple feet over was another ambulance that loaded two other adults.  

I almost trampled Sean trying to get to the ambulance that held Norman. They let me and Sean ride in there with them and the doors slammed as the sirens turned on.   

That was when I could get a good look at Norman.  His nose was bleeding, his cheek was cut badly along with his head, his arm looked broken, and he had a bright red and black skid mark across his leg.  I knew a bike had run over his leg and I knew he also hit his head pretty badly.  

The paramedics were treating his head for a first priority and Norman was moaning in pain and torture.  I didn't know how to comfort him, but Sean took over and began to talk to him about fun things they did in the past.  About me, The Walking Dead, The Boondock Saints, and so many more things.  Norman would give an occasional smile that looked like he was on loopy gas; only he wasn't.

The paramedics injected quite a few shots into him before we got to the hospital. They lifted him out and rolled his bed into a room.  Sean offered to go fill out the papers they would need, and I waited outside the room in a chair that felt like nails.  I was so uncomfortable.  Fidgety and wiggly, I waited and waited before Sean came back and sat beside me.  

I cradled my head in my hands and leaned over.  I was worried and felt bad.  The thought of It's my fault flashed my mind every once and a while, and I knew that that was normal.  

"You alright?" Sean asked, resting his hand on my back.
"Yeah.  Just upset. The last thing that happened between us was a fight." I confessed
"Oh.  Are you worried he'll die and you'll blame yourself (1) for not saying goodbye and (2) for asking him to come pick us up?" He asked.
"Thanks a lot." I smiled sarcastically.  I hadn't even thought about me asking him to come get us and now I felt even more guilty.  Norman wasn't even unconscious, and Sean was talking about him dying.

My head ached and throbbed and I decided to lay down and rest.  

 ***

"He's alright.  Just a broken leg and arm along with a handful of bad scrapes." Sean woke me.

I sighed, stretching my muscles from the uncomfortable position they were laid in when I fell asleep.  I'm relieved to hear he'll be alright and I ask if I can go in and see him.  

"Not quite yet.  They're still figuring out how badly damaged his head is.  Worst case scenario, it could be traumatic.  Or it could range in the bruise mark." Sean explained, sitting beside me.  

My mind wandered back to the fight we had.  I felt bad.  Why did I get that mad at him?  We weren't even dating, so just calm yourself.  I reminded myself as I got up in search of food.

"Hungry?" Sean asked.
"Hungry." I responded, grabbing his wrist and forcing him with me to look for the cafeteria.  

We walked the halls of patients and nurses until we saw a door labeled "Cafeteria"  Me and Sean entered it swiftly and began to load our plates with various selections of food.  We filled our drinks, then took a seat at a nearby table.

"So," Sean started, balling up his straw wrapper and flicking it to me.  I chuckled.  "So."  The table is interrupted by silence.  

Cough.  Cough.  The thick sound from behind me made me turn to look.  A large man was coughing and shaking his head at what looked like his wife.  "I don't know!  It just started."  

In the next moment, his wife was coughing as well and they both wobbled off to find a nurse.

"Weird." Sean joked as we continued our game of soccer with the paper.  I filled my empty stomach with the plate and sipped slowly at my water.  I hadn't realized how thirsty I was until I took one sip of it.