Hold on to Wishes

3: Welcome Home

     Two weeks more in the hospital passed by in a blur. Nurses and surgeons came and went to discuss future surgeries and the hard road ahead of me. I can honestly say that I didn't listen very closely. Physical therapy seemed like a small task compared to living without Felix.

     The metal rod in my back soon proved to be a bit of a pain in the ass. Getting up to go to the bathroom couldn't be done without assistance from Fane, and a nurse had to take me into the actual stall to help me. Functioning on my own was a joke- and soon I had adopted a "numb to all" attitude that consumed everything I said or did. It was excruciatingly painful to pretend like I wasn't bothered- both outside and in.

     Felix's funeral was a week after I'd been in the hospital. Of course, I don't remember a lot of it. I couldn't see anything through my tears. And I was in a wheelchair, provoking more people to bend down to hug me. Contact was always brief, and it hurt, but I would always grasp the person tight to me.

     A psychologist came in every day to talk to me about my memories. What I remembered, what I didn't. And without fail, every session ended with me breaking down in tears. Like today's.

     "Do you remember the night before the crash?" Dr. Sped asked quietly, her eyes intently gazing into my face.

     "Yes." I answered, staring down at the bed sheet crumpled in my hand. I rubbed the coarse fabric gently, trying to get my thoughts in order. The hospital smelled gross today, like a sugar cookie candle trying to mask the scent of blood.

     "And what exactly happened?"

     "I don't... want to talk about it now."

     Dr. Sped sighed deeply, still trying to make eye contact. "You are aware your best friend Abby is safe and well, correct? At home?"

     I nodded, my mind unable to not focus on the burning in my legs and lower back.

     "Okay. Let's move on. And your boyfriend? He was here when you woke up. Can you tell me about the first time you met?"

     My head shot up, brow furrowed. "Boyfriend?" Memories came flooding back... The boy with long black hair, standing with Flynn and Fane, a grinning face, soccer, a cold night at the ice cream shop- how could I not remember?

     I sharply inhaled, shutting my eyes tight.  "Jacob. Right. Um... We met at my brothers' soccer tournament. He's 17. I'm 16." I wasn't even saying this for her sake. I was repeating it to myself. I am Felicity Kept. I am Felicity Kept.

     "Good!" She smiled at me, looking relieved. "Now... Can you tell me about the trip you went on? Before that night?"

     Flashes of bright lights and a single scream danced across my head, and I pursed my lips, feeling sick.

     "I'm not ready." I stammered out, and began to feel the sting of tears in my eyes. Helplessness and guilt tore at my heart, and I pulled the thin blanket up against me, shuddering.

     Dr. Sped stood, pity in her eyes. Pity that I hated. The pity hurt. It was worse than the pain under my skin.

     "I'll see you tomorrow. At your home, hopefully. I pray your transition is easy for you." She gave me a single pat on the hand, and left the room.

     My face scrunched up, and the tears began to spill. Stop it, stop it. I buried my face into the new pillow, willing myself to calm down. Rocking sobs sent horrible, shooting pains down my sides, making me cry harder.

     Why couldn't I remember my boyfriend? Why couldn't I recall who my teachers were? Why couldn't I remember if I was a sophomore or junior until just last week?

     Raising a fist to pound the bed, a cold hand wrapped itself around my wrist, lowering it gently to the surface. Lifting my tear stained face, I tried to smile at my mom, who was still holding my hand tightly.

     "Hey." I tried to say, my voice raspy.
 
     "Hey. Listen; they said it's okay to go home. We're going home." Her mouth was lifted in a slight grin, even though her normally bright green eyes were dull and tired.

     I sighed deeply, rubbing my cheeks. "Oh, good."

     Mom titled her head, pushing a strand of hair out of my eyes. "How did the appointment go, sweetheart?"

     "You know," I shrugged, "it went."

     "It went." She laughed softly, brushing her thumb against my skin. "Okay. Well. I'm ready to go home. Fane And Flynn are on their way here to pick us up, and Dad is home setting things up for you. He might have even baked." The forced cheeriness in her voice made me want to cry some more, but I played along. It's easier to play along.

     "Oh, boy. Hope the house is still standing." I sat up with a grimace, and Mom chuckled, helping me stand and hobble to the door.

     Rachel, a nurse who had been assisting me during my much beloved visit, took Mom's place in getting me down the hall.

     "Gonna be sad to see you go." She said, pushing the button on the elevator to the main floor.

     "I'll be out of hell- I'll send you a postcard, since you can't seem to escape it." I joked, and she laughed. Rachel always teased me, and I appreciated her a lot. It made me feel a little more normal.

     The boys, as the dorks they were, were busy throwing paper balls at each other when we got down to the lobby. They both stood in a hurry, their hair bouncing as they both raced to take me from Rachel.

     "FEL, WE GOT YOU SOMETHING." Flynn pulled out a stuffed bear, and sniffed it dramatically. "We scented it with your favorite perfume crap."

     "Aw,  you shouldn't have." I rolled my eyes and tucked it under my arm, and Fane gave me an affectionate, light arm punch. They've been in a lot of pain- but they've been strong for me. I'm lucky. I guess we're all just faking it til we make it.
           __________________________

     Arriving home felt like a dream. The house was covered in flowers, and cards, and the smell of a cake wafted from the kitchen.

     Making my way through the huge living room, looking immaculate as always, I gazed at all the pictures of our family, the professional ones and the spontaneous selfies at pretty locations. Felix always took the best ones.

     Dad hugged me, and we ate cake and talked and tried to ignore the giant hole at the kitchen table. The empty chair. You can't just ignore something like that, but oh man, did we try our hardest.

     "Welcome home, Fel." My family chorused, and I smiled lightly and asked to be excused.

     My room was the same way I had left it those long two months ago. Bed made, fish in the tank, a couple socks lying about, pre calculus homework on the bedside table. Half of my closet was empty from the clothes I had taken on that trip,  the ones that were unsalvageable from the wreckage. I squeezed my eyes shut, and lowered myself onto my bed.
    
     It's all your fault. My head rang.

     Yeah. Welcome home indeed, Felicity Kept. Welcome home.