The Beginning of the Middle (A One Direction Fan Fiction)

Chapter 5: Recovery

   I was out of the hospital by nine. My medical expenses were paid entirely and myself a bit groggy, running on maybe three hours of sleep. The lights, the sounds, the atmosphere, the adrenaline from all that had happened yesterday made it virtually impossible to sleep.

   Deciding that it made no sense to keep lying awake for hours, I got the doctor to check up on me at six am. Luckily, he was up and running and told me that I was cleared to go home. I had earned myself a lazy day since there were strict orders for me to take it easy and rest.

   Leaving the hospital with bandages wrapped tightly around my head gave me a few suspicious glances from the locals. Hailing down a taxi cab was quite difficult too since most of them passed right by, thinking I was an escaping patient. Finally, by the sixth taxi, I had a ride to my flat. About ten minutes later, the cab rolled to a halt in front of the building.

   Thanking and paying the driver, I hopped out of the cab and punched in the building's code. The lock clicked open and I made my way to my flat. Before leaving last night, Lottie had thankfully remembered to give me her spare key. The key fit nicely in the lock and within seconds I was sprawled out on my bed taking a much needed nap.

   A couple hours later, my grumbling tummy forced me to wake up and eat some food. I soon realized that I hadn't eaten anything since lunch yesterday! I had been knocked out before we got dinner and I declined the food the hospital had offered me. I'd never tried hospital food, but I suppose all the stories I had heard over the years telling me the that it was awful influenced my decision. Besides, I probably wouldn't have cared for it even if it was good. From all of Lottie's exquisite cuisine I had been pampered to already, most food would probably just bore me.

   Trudging into the kitchen, I opened the fridge to find a tasty, Tesco chicken salad sandwich with my name written on it. In the fruit drawer, I pulled out an apple and I found an unopened can of sour cream and onion Pringles (my favorite) in the cupboard. All washed down with a refreshing glass of milk, I'd say I put together a pretty good meal.

   Afterwards, I pulled out my collection of Harry Potter films and decided it was the perfect time to host my own little movie marathon. Lottie wasn't much into Harry Potter, so I couldn't watch them with her. For the rest of the afternoon and into the evening I watched my movies. Being a shameless "potterhead", I made sure to quote all my favorite dialogues and act out all the dueling scenes.

   By the fourth movie, The Goblet of Fire, I began to tire. When the ending credits rolled down the screen, my eyes were stinging and demanding more sleep. Ejecting the disk and turning off the telly, I allowed myself to take another short nap on the couch.

   I awoke about an hour later to Lottie walking through the door. I heard her open the closet, hang up her jacket, close the closet, then walk down the hall to the kitchen. Slowly, I sat up on the couch and wiped the sleep from my eyes. I probably looked a mess since I hadn't brushed my hair and I was still in my comfy fleece pajamas.

   "How was the exam?" I called out to her.

   From the kitchen I heard a gasp, "Oh my... Chasteny! You almost made me drop the eggs! I thought you were asleep. You should know by now that I scare easily!"  She walked out from the kitchen and into the living room holding an egg carton.

   "Sorry!" I apologized, laughing a little, "So, how was it?"

   "What? Oh, the maths exam? It was alright. Long and hard, but alright. But who in their right mind puts seventy questions on an exam? It's inhumane! By the way, do you want an omelet?"

   "No thanks. Seventy questions though? Ugh!"

   "Yah, well, it happens. How are you feeling?"