What's Left Behind

Chapter 5

Light. Blood. Beeping. Crying. Darkness. Death. All things surrounded me. It tortured me for what seemed like hours. Heat. Cold. Tears. More cries. They came from everywhere. Was it following me? Were they chasing me.

Claws. Blood. Pain. Screams. Jolt. Light. It's found me.

My eyes flash open. My breathing jolts and my body tenses. My nose scrunches up as my lungs freshen.

A cold grip is on my arm. I look to my left to see Jay and his mom clutching my arm. I looked to my right and observe Jay's father asleep with the newspaper in front of him. I looked back to Jay and shuffle in my position and made it look like an accident I woke him.

He jolted awake and looked into my eyes. A new expression washed over his face and he leaped into the bed I was on. He screeched and hugged my neck. His mother flinched awake and his father stood up.

"Okay, okay." I breathed out. My lungs and mouth were dry. I barely could talk.

"You were out for three weeks Satana." He paused and sniffled. "Three weeks. I've been here nonstop." He looked into my eyes, tears still fell from his face.

"Thank you." Was all I could say, physically and emotionally. Tears tried to exit my eyes. He hugged me again and we stayed quiet for a long time.

"You're up?!" A doctor from the door said, eyes were wide open. His clipboard nearly dropped out of his hand. He ran down the hall and came back with five nurses and another doctor.

"Excuse me," she turned towards Jay's mother. "I' afraid you cannot stay in here. There's not enough room for everyone." We exchanged glances with the nurse then each other. They nodded silently then left the room. Jay snuck one more hug which the nurses did not approve of. I flicked her off.

"Well then. How're you feeling? You took a big blow to your stomach and head. You have fourteen broken ribs, which is more than half, you also have a minor concussion, and a broken wrist." One of the nurses looked at her clipboard, and barely made eye contact with me. I stared at her until she was finished.

"Okay." I said, not caring at all. "When can I leave?" The nurses stopped fixing my pillows and checking my blood and looked at me in awe. Most had their mouths wide open while one of the doctors blinked in disbelief.

"Ummm..." The nurse said while she exchanged looks with the doctors. "We're not sure yet..." She said, caution laced in her voice.

"Why not?" I asked, obviously getting on her nervous. I bit my lip and forced myself to hide my smile.

"You do realize you just woke up from being in a three week coma, right? We can't just have you walking out of here like nothing happened. You also have no family or house left which means you're homeless and an orphan." She said. Sass and anger tied together as she spoke. "Not to mention all the cuts and scars you have on your arms, which may or may not be infected." She added. She tried to grab my arm to show the rest of them my cuts, but I pulled away too fast.

"When can I leave?" I asked again. Anger made my words come out as if each was their own sentence. My eyes narrowed and my teeth bared. I may have been the one in the hospital bed, but she's the one who could get fired because of one simple slip up.

She looked me dead in the eyes, but terrified. The room was silent again. She spun on her heels and exited the room without another word.

"Which one of you shit-heads can tell me when I can get out of here?" I asked, but came out more like a demand.

"Let's say a week." One of the doctors said skittishly. The room was silent for a long period while the nurses checked up on my status. "Do you need anything else?" The doctor said before they were leaving.