Book One: Love Hurts UNEDITED

Love Hurts: Chapter One- Hospital

Book One: Love Hurts

By: Julie

Chapter One: Hospital

Sarah's POV:

Beep. Blink.

Beep. Blink.

Beep. Blink.

Beep. Blink.

I opened my eyes, the room was white, the blankets scratchy, pillows lumpy. The beeping got steadily quicker as I realized where I was.

'Hospital,' I thought in discust. 'God I hate hospitals.'

"Sarah? Are you awake?" A voice asked and I slowly turned my head towards the voicce. Beside me was a blond boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen years old. He had blond hair cut short and big, worried green eyes.

"Who are you? How do you know my name?" I asked, stammering in my fear.

"You don't remember me?" he asked, his head tilted to the side. Then he took out his wallet and pulled out a picture. "Do you remember him?" he asked, handing me the picture.

"It... It's me, and Timothy. But where did you get this?" I asked, my face paleing.

He smiled, handing me something else, it was his ID. His name was 'Timothy Logan'. My head snapped up to look at him.

"Tim?" I whispered, my mind flashed back to that one hot summer, our last summer together.

"What do you mean you're leaving? You'll be back next summer won't you?" seven year-old Timothy asked.

"No Tim, my mom is moving, I will not be comming back next summer," I murmured. I felt his hand take mine.

"We still have the rest of this summer right?" he asked.

"Right!" I agreed.

"Let's go up to the treehouse!" he said, pulling my hand to fallow him. I laghed and raced alongside him all the way to the treehouse. He helped me up and we sat by the window. "I'm going to miss you Sarah," he whispered, putting his arm around me.

"I'll miss you too Timmy," I replied quietly. Withought a thought, I put my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes.

"Sarah?" Timothy asked, tilting my head so he could see my eyes.

"Yes Timmy?" I whispered as he leaned closer. His lips brushed mine and his arms wrapped around me. He drewback and smiled at me. "What was that for?" I asked a little breathless from my first kiss.

"That Share, was to remember me by. Please don't frget about me," he murmured, then he left, leaving me alone in the treehouse.

'That was the last time I saw him, kissed him, talked to him... Until now,' I thought rousing myself from my thoughts to look at him.

"Timmy? Is it really you?" I whispered, bringing my hand up to touch the side of his face.

"Share,"  he whispered, bringing my hand to his lips to kiss it. "You didn't forget about me," he murmured.

"Of course not, I thought you'd forget, I was only six after all," I whispered, letting him kiss my fingers.

"I wouldn't do that," he whispered in return. "I should go and get the doctor and tell him you're awake." He slowly got up and stood aquardly by the bed. "I'll be back."

He left and when the doctor came in, his eyes lighted up slightly.

"Sarah Schurman, is it?" he asked. I nodded, mute. "I'm Dr. Dean Wright. How are you feeling?"

"It kinda hurts to breathe," I replied, wondering about the gleam in his eyes. He nodded and looked at my chart, a crease forming inbetween his black eyebrows.  He had dark brown hair to match his eyebrows and pretty sky-blue eyes, and he was around six feet tall. 'Good bulid,' I mused.

"Sarah?" he asked. "Are you okay?" he touched my forehead, as if seeing if I had a fever. "Do you remember hitting your head when you fell?"

"I don't think so," I replied, remembering the slight burst of pain when I hit that water. "Actually I think I hit the water wrong."

"Waht hurts?" he asked, putting my chart down on the table and comming up to the edge of the bed.

"The back of my head," I replied, reaching back to touch it.

"Don't touch it, just give me a second, let me help you sit up." He eased one hand behina my back and the other cradling my head and helped me sit up. I felt his fingers on the back of my neck, testing the soreness there. I yelped when he found the most sensative spot. "Is that where it hurts the worst?" he asked, watching me with kind eyes.

"Yeah," I said, relaxing under his warm touch. The door opened and Timothy came in with a cop.

"Let's see if this helps, alright?" he asked, smiling. "It might hurt at first, then it feels better." He carefully turned my head all the way to the left then all the way to the right. When my neck popped on the right side, he turned it to the left until it popped. "Better?" he asked, smiling kindly.

I moved my head, testing it's limits, and when it showed no signs of pain, I smiled. "Better," I agreed.

"Sarah?" Timothy asked. "This is Detective Sheldon, he wishes to speak to you about your family."

I let my gaze wander from Dr. Wright, to Timothy, and then  finally over to Detective Sheldon.

"What kind of questions?" I asked.

"Not really questions, I need to tell you something, and I don't think you'll like it very much, espically if you loved them as much as you wrote about in here," he said quitly, anding me my diary. "Last night, while you were sleeping here in the hospital, your parents hotel that they were staying at with your three sisters and your one brother caught on fire, unfortunately, they were so surrounded by flames, that they couldn't escape." He looked down at the ground. Ten back into my eyes. "We tried everything we could, but we couldn't get them out in time, I'm sorry. They perrished in the fire."

"They died?" I asked numbly, my eyes blank, remembering when I was a child. I felt a warm hand take mine and another on my forehead.

"Sarah? Are you okay?" Timothy asked. I felt his hands frame my face. "Sarah, please," he pleaded.

I was numb, I couldn't speak, I couldn't do anything. Slowly the panic faded and the hysterics kicked in, "Did anything survive?" I whispered, tears filling and stinging my eyes.

"Well a dog survived, but she didn't have any tags. She looks like a pit bull," Dective Sheldon replied. "We brought her with."

"Please," I sobbed, unable to stop my tears. "I want to see her."

"Of course," he said. "Bring in the dog," he called, keeping his eyes on my face as the doctor got a needle and measured out a dose.

The dog came is, scared, freshly bahed. Her ears perked up when she heard me crying. "Annabelle, babe," I cried. "Come here."

Her furry, golden body jumped up on the bed next to me and cuddled up to me. "Annabelle," I whispered, holding her closer.

I felt a gentle hand on my arm and then a cold, wet cotton-ball rub in the crease of my elbow. I felt a prick of a needle and then the same hands lower me onto the bed and a kind voice whisper- "go to sleep Sarah. It will be better in the morning."

Soon after that, I fell into a troubled sleep.