Roses Are Dead Like Violet In Bed

Reprecussion

I woke up to the sounds of an IV drip, and the beeping of a heart monitor. As my vision began to clear, I saw that I was surrounded by a curtain. Right when I got up, a nurse appeared at my bedside and told me to stay down. No, not a nurse.

Mom. She survived.

She wore her hospital gown like a suit of armor. Paying homage to the war she had lost. I couldn't help myself. I sat up and threw my arms around my mother's neck.

"Violet", she whispered.

I felt the tears beginning to fill my eyes. We hugged until low sobs faded away. She brought me ham sandwiches and water. I had so many questions.

"How did you find me? When did you find me?"

Oh my god. Did she find the weed Amiin and I were smoking?

"What did you find when you found me?"

My mother eyed me with a smirk.

She knew.

I let out a sigh of relief, but also fear. I'm supposed to be the perfect daughter, not a junkie.

"Listen, when I was your age I did weed. I've experienced the rush. But after a while I realized that the rush didnt take away my problems, it just sealed it into a little ball and threw it into the depths of my mind where I couldn't reach it. The rush isn't a cure, it's a temporary prison. Only thing is though you were lucky"

She sits on the bed.

"The shit you smoked was covered in something. laced probably. My friend in the pharmacology department is running it to see what it is. Just be careful next time." She smiled and caressed my face.

I stared at her blankely. She understood. Most parents don't get it, but she did. I gave her another hug , and I felt her stomach brushed against me.

The baby.

I jerk back, and gently put my head against her belly as if I was going to hear a heartbeat. She winces as my ear brushes against her wound from the broken glass.

"Sorry!" I jumped, completely forgetting about the shard that had lodged itself in my mother's abdomen. My mother caressed my hair and let out a soft chuckle.

"Come with me"

I got up slowly and followed her out of the room. Someone took off my socks but I wish they hadn't. The floor was so cold. I winced with each step, the cold sending shivers up my spine, but I went on.

We went to the ultrasound room and she layed on the bed. The doctor was in the room, but he was preoccupied. She picked up the ultra soundy thingy and placed it on her abdomen. The black and white image of a tiny embryonic figure appeared on the screen.

Tears began to fill my eyes as it moved its hands around, and kicked its feet.

"It's alive", I say with trembling hands covering my mouth. I sound like I'm in the Frankenstein movie, but I don't care.

"Correction; She's alive", my mother says with a smile.

A sister. I have a sister.

Joy overcomes me and I start to jump. Happiness and laughter fill the room.

What are we gonna name her?

How will she look?

What's her zodiac gonna be? She better not be a Cancer.

All these questions fill my head as I stare at the screen. Wow. Life holds such beauty. To think that in my mother's own womb, she carries a girl, one awaiting to take her first breath. I giggle more as my mom allows me to move the ultrasound wand myself. As I open my mouth to speak though, I feel a sharp pressure in my chest. My smile turns to a frown as I grab at my chest, and I feel my body hit the cold ground.

Fuck.

I hit the ground on my side. The impact knocked the wind out of me, and every breath feels more tasking than the last. My vision starts to blur, hints of darkness cloud my vision.

"M-Mom?" I manage to push out the word between my staggered breaths.

I reach out helplessly towards the bright ceiling lights, and the silhouette of my mother appears above me.

"Im here, Im here" she holds my hands between hers. "Its okay"

It felt as if the oxygen was slowly leaving my lung, filling the area between my lung and chest chest cavity.

A nurse came over to me and tried to help, but he only knew how to deal with ultrasounds, not collapsed lungs. My mother on the other hand grabbed a large needle from the counter.

It was getting harder to breathe. Very hard. I've never realized how much I took my lungs for granted. Without the assistance of both my lungs, I would die within 20 minutes (according to the books I read).

I could feel the air filling my chest, like a balloon inflat-

" WHAT THE FU-!"

Remember that needle my mom grabbed? She just plunged it into my chest, right between my ribs. I could feel all the excess oxygen leaving my chest. The weight on my chest began to lift and my breathing began to level.

My mother and the doctor lifted me onto the ultrasound bed, and wheeled me into another room. Luckily, the room was already filled with surgeons who just finished a surgery.

"I GOT A PNEUMOTHORAX, AIR HAS ALREADY BEEN RELEASED, TIME FOR RECON!"

My mother was shouting orders left and right like a military sergeant, but everyone around her obeyed.

Pneumothorax?

A Collapsed Lung.

They pulled the big bright light above me and readied their instruments.

From the corner of my eye I see my mom having a conversation with a woman, a surgeon maybe. She looks over at me, her face painted with a look of worry.

After some time, everyone surrounded my bed and was looking down at me.

What were they waiting for? FIX ME!

I was getting anxious and I started trembling. My mother slowly takes my hand into hers, and whispers in my ear.

"I want you to listen to me. The hospital is all out of anesthesia, and the nearest supply is an hour away. The surgeon says you have only have  30 minutes at most till your right lung goes too"

I lock eyes with the woman my mom spoke to earlier, and she gives me a stern nod.

1 hour.

I'll be dead by then. Today is the day I die, and this is my death bed. I have to try to level out my breathing as much as I can and try to stay ca-

I heard it before I felt it. It was on the right side this time. My right lung went too. The air started filling my chest and I gasped for breath.

The surgeons punctured my chest again and released the air, but now I have no other lung to support me.

My mom jumps to the head of the bed, her hands gripping both of my shoulders.

"I CONSENT, GO! DO IT" I heard my mom scream.

Her grip tightens as someone folds a rag and puts it in my mouth. I can see a look of regret on his face. I think I might've heard him say he's sorry.

"Honey bite down, don't hold it in."

I look around, confused. Two of the nurses hold my arms down on either side while another holds my feet. Fear fills my body, and I begin to fight. Screaming, kicking, thrashing. Anything I can do to get out of this four man prison. Their grip only tightens though, securing me to the bed.

My mom looks at the surgeon, and nods.

"Let's begin."

I felt the cold blade touch the side of my ribcage.

Then it moved downward.

I felt my skin splitting slowly, as if my body was on fire. Blood pours out of my like the Red Sea. I winced and cried, my back pushing up towards the sky. I felt a cold gloved hand begin to part the slabs of skin.

And a loud vicious scream escaped my throat.