If Love Were Lightbulbs

No Changes? Seriously?

Adrianna's POV

With so much tears welled up in my eyes, I asked myself so many questions. Why am I always the centre of every major situation?, why does he always have to suffer?, why was I rude to him earlier?, why did I doubt him. It was 9:15pm, I stood close to the window of Buster's cubicle; where he was bedridden. Almost everyone was present: Ms. Lucy(Buster's mom), my mom, my dad and brother, Bev, Daisy and Andrew,John and even Mr. Sebastian together with Mr. Reed, and a few of our classmates came to pay a visit.

I was caught up in flashbacks. His proposal, the way he handled my down times; his smile, the meeting with my family, and the meeting with the Bulbs in the library. He said I had a big heart, but in actual fact he doesn't realize how big his is.

The crises at St. Augusts hospital wan't too good. It was amazing how numerous the patients were. Buster's medical bills were settled immediately after admission. It wasn't made know to his mom though.

Buster's condition was critical, he became unconscious shortly after the fight. Even before he became unconscious, he was very incoherent and barely audible. His shirt was torn: exposing his maimed body. He had sustained injuries in several places on his body. I felt so bad for him, especially when he could not call for help in the heat of the fight but took on everything.

This incident has granted me the opportunity to muse about him in ways I'd have taken a rather long time. My feelings for him had aggravated so much I could barely think of anything else. I wished I had been more loving, I wish I had appreciated him more when I had the chance. It was difficult to sit, watching him on the bed, and not think of the worst.

Everyone had left now, after they'd spent time with him and his family. Some, also, just came to show they were present. Ms. Lucy desired to stay to watch over Buster, but I encouraged her to go on home, to take some rest, and that I've got it covered;also, and if there was anything that needed her attention, I'd give her a call.

Mom also preferred to stay. She disclosed that she was wrong about Buster, and apologized for her lack of shrewdness. I wanted to be the first person Buster looked at when he opened his eye.

The night was still and cold, the atmosphere outside was quiet, as if they could tell how gloomy I felt inside at this moment in time, and wanted to support me. The atmosphere in the hospital was rather the opposite.

Some patients yelled from pain, noise from crying babies, irritated impatient nurses(in their green uniforms and reigning insults and curses on patients). A fact about visiting hospitals is, you can hardly unsee what you see, no matter how hard you try.

Some situations heartwarming  and capable of softening your heart,melting it; and some you wouldn't even feel comfortable to talk about: maimed bodies, female victims of domestic violence with distorted faces; other patients had bandages fixed on their legs: since they were broken.

"I'm sorry I got you into this Busty, If I had my own way, I will more than rewrite history", I whispered after a while, whiles leaning on his bed to reach for his hand. After I had them in mine, I held them tightly like never wanting to let go, like I was saying goodbye forever...meanwhile silently wishing his fingers move.

The nurses of St. Augusts hospital came in every 15 minutes to check up on him, they said it was convenient that way. I was not sure I was going to sleep. Insomnia and I are definitely going to be bff's today. My eyes were flamy, I figured 'bloodshot' would be an understatement, my back hurt from sitting with one orientation for too long.