Dandelion

Journal?

XX.XX.XXXX

Hi there, new journal.

Alex gave you to me as a welcome-back-to-consciousness present, I think. He told me the doctors suggested keeping a recovery journal. Yeah, Alex, I know. They suggested it to me too. They must think I'm incapable of coming up with what to do with myself on my own.

Since I can't put a video on paper, I might as well tell you that I'm rolling my eyes.

Alex is. . . I'm not actually sure where he is. I think he's down in the cafeteria with his parents. I'm glad he's eating. I haven't seen him eat since I woke up, and since he tells me that he was with me all three days I was comatose (such a good word, don't you think? It's fun to say.) I highly doubt he ate in all that time. He gets to the point where he gets so worried about something that he won't eat for days.

I don't think he thinks about himself when he's worried about other people. I've seen him when he's worried about others. He doesn't eat, doesn't sleep, and he barely talks.

I'm worried about him. . . I hate to think that I'm the reason he's literally worried sick.

Although, I have to admit, it's nice to know that there are people here who love and care about me. It feels like I'm part of a family again. I haven't felt this way in a long time, not since my mom died. She was the only one who really loved me. Clearly, my father never did, since he's the one who landed me here.

I wonder who found me, back on the road. I remember short brown hair, but it was dark, and I couldn't see their face. I think I said Alex's name once or twice, but that's all I remember. I don't understand why doctors want me to write down everything I remember. It's the same as telling me, "Oh, Lily, here, we know this was a traumatic thing for you, but here, relive all that crap and give yourself as much PTSD as you can so we can get a look into your funny little brain." Gee, thanks, doc. I'm not suffering from it enough already.

God, I'm so tired of everyone telling me that reliving all this stuff over and over is what's best for me. I have to relive it anyway, and it's not like I want to shar-

I set my pen down when I heard a knock at the door. Shutting my journal and stuffing it under my pillow, I mustered all the cheeriness I could and invited the nurse in.

She's a sweetheart, and I don't hate her, not really, it's just that I'm not particularly fond of anyone right now.

"How are you feeling today, Miss Ward?"

"Swell," I replied, tightening my hold on Theo's arm and gritting my teeth. Really, I'm feeling like I got hit by a truck. But I've said that a lot today. I stopped counting at twelve.

"Has your family left for the evening?"

"No." Short answers, Lily. Short answers, to the point, and she'll leave, and you can sleep. My inner mantra at this point was "Don't lie, don't die, and get home." So far, I've done pretty well on the first two, but I'm still working on the whole 'getting home' thing. Clearly. The IV drip still shoved in my basilic vein (can you tell I've heard the word a lot?) and the electrodes all over my chest attest to that fact.

"Well, when they return, you might want to say goodnight. Visiting hours are almost over."

"But I'm in the ICU!" I cried, "Someone is allowed to stay with my all night, if they need to!"

She smiled. "You're absolutely right. I knew you were bright, and that you paid attention when we told you the rules."

"Of course I know them," I said, crossing my arms. "This isn't the first time I've been here."

The nurse gave me a sympathetic smile, and I returned it hesitantly. "Anything you need, just ask," she said.

"I need to go home," I told her. "I'm losing my mind here."

"I'll see what I can do, sweetie. The doctors don't want to release you until they're sure you aren't in any more danger."

"I'm going to be in danger until my father is behind prison bars," I muttered, crossing my arms.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. The police are doing what they can."

"Fat lot of good it's doing."

There was that sympathetic smile again. She patted my shoulder in one of the few unbruised places. "If there's anything I can do to help you, Miss Ward-"

I cut her off. "You can call me Lily."

Her smile seemed just a little happier. "Okay, Miss Lily."

I smiled back, this one genuine. "And what should I call you? I can't remember your name."

"Allie," she said. "My name is Allie."

After checking a chart, or whatever, Allie left my room. I'd debated getting back to writing in my journal, but before I had the chance to get the little book back out, there was another knock on the door.

Groaning, I fell back on my one lousy hospital pillow, muttering an annoyed "Come in," to whatever doctor I was sure was waiting outside. My mood immediately brightened when Alex poked his head through the door.

"Hey there, Dandelion," he said with a smile. He came over and sat on the edge of my bed, handing me a plastic bag. "I got you a sandwich," he told me, kissing me on the cheek. "You like turkey and swiss cheese, right? With lettuce and tomatoes."

I laughed. "That sounds wonderful; thank you, Alex."

He smiled, looking out the window. I followed his gaze, watching the sun set slowly outside of the hospital.

"It's like the world doesn't even seem like it misses us, does it?"

He glanced back at me. "People from school have been emailing me," he said. "They all hope you're doing well."

I'll admit it, hearing that my classmates cared enough about me to email Alex made my heart swell with gratitude. I managed a smile.

"That means a lot," I whispered, truthfully. "I. . . Can you tell them I said thank you?"

Alex just grinned and kissed my cheek again. "Of course I can. Now eat your sandwich. You need to go to sleep if you're ever going to get out of here.

I made a face at him, sticking my tongue out for good measure. The sandwich wasn't as bad as it could've been, considering it was hospital food, and after I finished eating, Alex offered to lay in bed with me until I fell asleep. Somehow I was sure that he would be there way longer than that.

He climbed into my bed and I snuggled into his arms, looking out the window at the stars as they started to come out. You know, in the last few days, I've heard the words, "The universe has a plan," more times than I'd care to count, but laying here, like this, with Alex, I think I could start to believe it.