Song of the chapter: Last Kiss by Taylor Swift
Hope you like it :)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 5-Hospital Rooms
"I hear you say: 'My love is over, it's underneath, it's inside, it's inbetween. The times you doubt me, when you can't feel. The times that you question, 'Is this for real?' The times you're broken, the times that you mend. The times you hate me, and the times that you bend. Well my love is over, it's underneath, it's inside, it's inbetween. These times you're healing, and when your heart breaks. The times that you feel like you're fallin' from grace. The times you're hurting, the times that you heal. The times you go hungry and are tempted to steal. In times of confusion, in chaos, and pain, I'm there in your sorrow, under the weight of your shame. I'm there through your heartache, I'm there in the storm. My love I will keep you by my power alone. I don't care where you've fallen, or where you have been. I'll never forsake you, my love never ends. It never ends."
My favorite verse of the song Times by Tenth Avenue North slowly plays in my head, the notes of the music jumping to different parts of my brain, relaxing them, soothing them, alleviating the pain. I don't know where I am. I don't even know who I am. All I know is the pain. The pain that is in every part of my body, that sends great spots of color to burst behind my closed eyes, and sometimes I think I can cry out, that is, when I can find my voice. It almost feels as if there is a block of wood in the back of my throat, preventing me from speaking, from making words.
And then, slowly, like water trickling through a crack in a glass bowl, my memories slowly start to pour back into my brain. The date . . . the dinner . . . Alex . . . falling asleep . . . waking up . . . car . . . Alex . . . unconscious . . . pain . . . pain . . . blackness. . . .
Alex . . . Alex . . . is he okay? I don't even know. All I know is that I want to help him, to get up, to throw off this -- this blackness -- this blackness that prevents me from seeing, from opening my eyes, from seeing where and who I am.
You're Margarita Noelle Wilson-Bradley, of course. Your friends call you Elle.
I have a second conscience?
Ever since I can remember, yes.
Well, what happened?
Heck, I'm about as clueless as you. All I remember is the car speeding towards ours, Alex getting knocked unconscious, and you -- or we -- or you, or, I don't know -- banging your head on the window, and then blackness.
Do you know where I am?
*snort* No.
Well, is Alex okay?
How am I supposed to know? I'm in your head, stupid.
Do you always piss me off?
Yes.
You say I banged my head?
Yep.
I tried to reach up to feel my head, but found that I couldn't move my arms.
THE FUCK?! I CAN'T MOVE MY FUCKING ARMS!
Heyyy, you're coming back. . . .
I am?
Yeah, you swear a lot.
I do?
God, do you have like amnesia?
YOU ARE READING
Trying Not to Strangle My Roommates-Book 2 (Watty Awards!)
RomansATTENTION: READ BOOK 1 (Trying Not to Strangle the Bradley Boys.) FIRST! Margarita "Elle" Noelle Wilson-Bradley was not a normal girl. And, no, she's not a witch or whatever. There is no fantasy about her life. But she does have bone cancer. Elle...
