The Boy In The Crystal Ball

Chapter Six: Turning

Chapter Six:

 turning

There was an itch that was begging for her attention, but Joanna casted it away with a large breath. The stupid annoyance had been bothering her for what felt like hours, but all she wanted to do was sink into these plush sheets and pillows; she wanted to never open her eyes again.

If she could focus enough attention and energy onto those thoughts, the niggling sensation of pain could be cast away. But in truth, her body ached fiercely.

Her limbs felt heavy with a leaded weight, the soles of her feet burned, her back was stiff and her neck immobile. Thinking back to why she was so tired and pained, Joanna couldn't formulate a reasonable answer. All she could remember was the loud music and hazy faces at the party, before it clouded into nothing.

She knew that something had to have happened, why else would she be in such a condition? But everything she tried to think about that night, nothing came to mind. It was almost as if she had blacked out, but Joanna was positive that she was practically sober at that party; she didn't remember sipping anything.

A loud bang caused Joanna to jump out of her skin, her eyes flying open in response. At first, everything was blurry, but the more she blinked, the more Joanna could define her best friend's figure in the doorway. The room was bright due to the opened blinds, it casted a yellow light upon Stacy, who looked sheepish.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, holding a stuffed toy. "I didn't realize you were still asleep."

Looking around the room, as much as her neck could allow, Joanna caught small glimpses of a bouquet of flowers, some balloons and the array of scattered chairs in the pale room. Hospital was the first thing that came to mind, but why was she here?

Joanna tried to lean on her elbows for support as she tried to sit up, but swore loudly at the pain that wracked through her back.

Stacy immediately rushed to her side, before easing Joanna back to the bed. "You're crazy if you think you can move!" Stacy said, placing the fluffy, yellow duck on her friend's chest. "You need more than a few hours of rest to do that."

Joanna huffed, before picking at the duck's flaccid wings. "Stacy, do you remember what happened last night?"

"What do you mean?" She asked, before taking a plastic chair and placing near the edge of the hospital bed.

"I can't remember anything that happened last night," Joanna said softly. "Do you think I was drugged?"

Stacy's eyebrows shot to her forehead. "Why would you think that?"

Joanna pushed the duck away from her, turning her neck slowly to the side. "I don't think I drank as much as I would need to, to blackout. But all I can recollect was the bass thumping through the house, the guests laughing and stumbling and then the path I took from the kitchen to the hallway."

Stacy chewed on her lip, before sighing. "I didn't want to tell you this, because you're already screwed up with your wounds. Last night, you slapped Connor so hard, he now has a bruise on his cheek."

"What?" Joanna cried out, her eyes watering with tears. "Do you think-,"

Stacy placed her hand out before her friend could finish her words. "We don't know anything! I didn't hear about it until this morning when I came to visit. He was pacing the lobby downstairs when he saw me. He pushed the balloons and stuffed duck into my hands and told me to give them to you. The hospital staff wouldn't let him come into your room as a guest, because your parents didn't know him. When I saw his reddened bruise, he rubbed at it before telling me that you gave it to him, because he did something stupid."

The pit of Joanna's stomach fell as she looked at the various gifts and pieces of Connor surrounding the room. She didn't remember smacking him or seeing him at the party at all. Yet, a she continued to dwell upon her dilemma, her hand began to tingle with the thought of her skin grazing his cheek.

"What should I do?" She mumbled pitifully; fat tears began to plummet to the

sheet around her hips, and Joanna felt her sorrow consume her whole.

Stacy frowned, before seating herself next to her friend on the bed. "Absolutely nothing, we can't trust what did or didn't happen. You just need to focus on getting better, and ignore him."

The ache that pummeled its way into her heart intensified. "But I like him, Stacy! I really do!"

"I know, but we have no idea what he's capable of, Jo!" Stacy bit her lip once more, before whispering, "Do you really not remember anything?"

"No!" Joanna cried, tears now streaming down her cheeks. "I can't remember anything that happened last night and its frustrating me. One minute I'm having fun, then everything turns black."

A knock on the door made the two girls jump. They swiveled their heads to look at the sheepish police officer with his knuckles raised. "I'm sorry to bother you, but we need to ask some questions."

Stacy hopped off the side, giving her friend a look, before leaving the room entirely.

The officer was young, with a rugged jaw and sprinkling of dark facial hair. His towered over Joanna as he stood by the doorway, but his authority was immeasurable.

Joanna cowered beneath her sheets, clutching at the skimpy duck as a barrier between them. The officer held a notepad and writing utensil, as he introduced himself.

"I'm Officer McDonough, and I just wanted to ask you what you can remember from last night." He seated himself on a nearby chair, giving plenty of space between them.

"I can't remember anything," Joanna squeaked, clutching the furry duck. "I've been trying to tell everyone that, whenever I think about last night it's just black and hazy."

The officer bristled, looking up from his notepad to stare at her. "I'm here to help you, Joanna. If you can't tell me anything then I can't get you out of your charge of trespassing."

"Trespassing?" Joanna cried. "Where did I trespass?"

"We found you laying on the carnival grounds with bloody cuts and bruises, and we took you to seek medical attention." Officer McDonough sighed, before resting his forearms upon his knees. "I really want to help you, Joanna. So tell me, who did you meet up with? Who did this to you?"

Joanna felt her anger well up inside of her, she didn't need to prove her innocence to these people. She knew that she couldn't remember a thing, and if they didn't choose to take her word for it then she couldn't do anything about that.

Propping her chin on the duck's head, Joanna merely shrugged her shoulders in response. She had never acted so defiantly against the men who maintain the law, but something inside of her reveled in her act.

Her anger and brat-like attitude was feeding this thing, giving her a sense of pride in her rebelliousness.

The Officer's face screwed up in frustration. "So you're not going to tell me who beat you to a bloody pulp."

"I wish I could, except that I don't remember." She said, glaring at his intimidating frame.

Officer McDonough ran a large hand over his face, his unruly strands of inky black hair began to brush against his eyebrows. "If you ever do remember what happened that night," he slide his hand into his pocket before showing off a small white card. "Don't hesitate to call."

Joanna hesitantly accepted the tiny paper rectangle, before watching the officer gather up his blank notes and shuffle into his jacket.

"Sometimes," the officer said softly, looking at her intently. "By the time we receive calls from girls like you, it's too late. Think about that."

Joanna felt her chest constrict and eyes burn, because on some deep internal level she could understand his worry. Whoever had dragged her out into the dark night was going to be her demise, if only she knew who it was.