Till Death Do Us Part {Completed}

Chapter Twenty-Two - Near-Death Experiences

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Dedicated to MyImmortalLoverfor continuing to read this. Love you, chicka!

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Chapter Twenty-Two - Near Death Experiences~

I fell into a coma.

At least, that's what they told me when I woke up in the hospital.

They tried to explain it to me, but it was all very confusing; lots of big words that I didn’t know, like atrophy and vestigial. But to put it in layman’s terms, apparently the bullet Lucas had wounded me with hadn't been a clean shot and had lodged in the muscle, meaning it had had to be surgically removed. But because I'd refused medical treatment as long as I had in the woods, I had gone into shock, and my body had started shutting down. There was a chance that if I had've waited longer, I might have gone into cardiac arrest.

            By the time we had made it into the hospital, my heart had stopped once, and, after emergency CPR, I was whisked from the ambulance to the operating room, where they lost me a further two times, but managed to bring me back to life thanks to the use of CPR and defibrillators. After that, I had been sent to Intensive Care Unit, where I was put on life support.

            Three hours later, I fell into a coma.

A lot of it didn't make sense to me, but they also mentioned the fact I was lucky that I still had the full use of my right arm. It might've needed amputation had I not sought medical attention, and with the muscles I hit, I should be thanking my lucky stars I wasn't paralyzed. Apparently every now and again my arm would twitch for the rest of my life, but that it was better than the alternative.

I'd been in the coma for two weeks, meaning that I'd missed graduation, but Lucas hadn't been trialed yet. They needed me to testify, and now he'd also be getting another ten years hopefully for attempted murder. He'd get life in prison, they said.

It didn't matter to me. I'd sworn I'd never be one of those stupid, pathetic girls who pined after the guy they loved, but the thought of Finn tortured me constantly.

Could I have done more? Why didn't I get one last chance to tell him I loved him? What was he doing right now?

They let me out of hospital a week later, and the only thing I had to show for it was a black sling, but even that was pretty nondescript. I had to keep my arm elevated for the next six weeks to make sure it healed.

Ryan was waiting in the hospital lobby for me as I left, and he threw his arms around me and held me close. "Lacey," he whispered. "Thank God you're okay."

"I'm doing okay, nerd," I said weakly, trying for lightness by using the familiar nickname. After lying down for three weeks, standing was a strange phenomenon.

He kept his arm wrapped tightly around my waist, and I leaned into his shoulder, grateful to him for helping to keep me upright.

My mother and father still flitted close by, and they seemed determined to be with me at all times. They were making it their duty to be my maids, but I didn't like it. I was fine alone, and I didn’t need their constant hovering. Not that I was ungrateful, but I wished they wouldn’t worry so much or feel so guilty. It had been my fault I had ended up in this position in the first place, but my parents had told me they felt responsible for not being around as much lately. It wasn’t their fault, but they refused to see reason.