Life in Vegas || Brendon Urie

Chapter 40

Bump.

Beep.

Prick.

Ping.

"Is she going to be okay?"

"When will she wake up?"

"How bad is her condition?"

Black.

This was a cycle for me. I faded in and out of reality. I could hear people around me, I could feel the needles stuck in me, I could hear the monitors giving a signal of my livelihood.

But I couldn't do anything. I felt trapped inside of my body. I wanted to scream, to let them know I was here, to tell the doctors that I didn't need a tube down my throat or an IV in my hand.

Why is there a tube in my throat anyway? I wondered. The only reason I could come up with was that I had been here for a while - wherever 'here' was.

Another thing, I had been listening to people discuss my condition, without any input from me, for countless cycles now. Every time I came to, even just a little, there was someone asking, "Is she waking up?", or saying, "She might never come out of this."

I fought hard every time I gained a sliver of consciousness. I fought to hold on to it; to make it grow into full awareness. But, I hadn't had luck on my side enough to do so. The spurts only grew longer by a few seconds every time.

It was the middle of the night when I finally regained full consciousness.

My eyes barely cracked open, adjusting to the dim, but still-too-bright light in the room. Almost immediately, I began to choke on the tube. I panicked, yanking on it and frantically hitting the call button that was neatly clipped to my blanket.

A team of medical professionals tumbled into the room, astonished at my sudden alertness. They worked quickly, and a few moments later, I was comfortable, trying to communicate with the team with my scratchy voice.

"Where?" Was all I choked out.

"Bronson Adult Critical Care," a nurse answered me. I had no idea where that was.

I didn't try to talk anymore because my throat hurt and the professionals crowding me were running multiple tests, so I figured it would be best to stay quiet.

After a while, they were finished with me. One nurse stayed, giving me water and talking about my condition with me. Her name was Charlotte.

"I'm surprised you just woke up," she said, snapping her fingers, "just like that! How do you feel?"

"Everything hurts," I croaked. It was true. My head felt like it could explode, my torso was all around achy whenever I breathed, or moved, and all my joints felt stiff. I reported all this to her as she asked me questions.

"Well, I'm not surprised. Being bed ridden for almost four months will do that do ya," she joked.

I almost choked again, but this time on my own air. "Four months?!" I shrieked.

Charlotte nodded. "You were in a coma, medically speaking," she shrugged. "If you ask me, your body was just trying to heal."

"W-what happened?" I asked. I knew why I was here; I knew what David had done and that I was probably supposed to be dead, but I didn't know how I was alive.

"Well, as far as I know, you got real beat up, and the police found you in some hole in the ground. Then you got brought here."

I was stunned. How was I still alive? How did David not kill me? Even more pressing - did David kill Brendon?