Five Foot Six Inches of Trouble

Chapter 18

Pete managed to push me around all day, which has got to be tough when I've got a giant cement cast on my leg. I had survived through the afternoon without any problems. A few fans got the guys to sign something of theirs, but no one else really recognized them with sunglasses and hoodies on to cover their faces. I'm sure we all look so fancy in the Louvre with our Clandestine merch. We walked back a different way to our hotel, and saw the Eiffel Tower. I was bummed I couldn't go to the top, so no one went without me. I have the best friends in the world.

I was finding it more difficult to breathe as the day dragged on. I still had to wear a bandage around my ribs from the accident. Pete could tell I was struggling, and immediately called the limo. It came less than five minutes later, and it took us back to the hotel. Pete set me in bed and asked if I was ok about a million times. My breaths were a little quick and shallow, but I was ok.

"I'm fine. Just need to rest my ribs and lung I guess... It's not everyday you puncture a lung."

He didn't look too convinced. He got into bed on the other side and pulled my head onto his lap. I fell asleep no more than ten minutes later, tired of worrying I would ruin the vacation for everyone if I died. My brain is a wonder, isn't it?

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I woke up gasping for breath. I flashed back to the hospital the previous week. The memory make me shudder. Why was it so hard to breathe? Pete jolted upright and looked at me.

"You ok?!" He asked startled.

I couldn't answer him. I remembered the horror of not being able to speak. Feeling helpless. I looked at Pete and grasped my ribs to tell him I was hurting again.

"Oh no." He rushed out of bed and yanked a pair of jeans and a hoodie on. He gently picked me up into my wheelchair. I was glad everyone was still asleep, peacefully in each others arms. I didn't like having a lot of attention. He wheeled me to the limo, which took me to the hospital.

Pete had a hard time explaining my condition to the French doctors. He finally got fed up and screamed for them to get me into one of the rooms. They understood that. Pete found a doctor that spoke English and told him my problem. He looked a little concerned.

"Well," he said in a mild French accent. "If you had your ribs and lung mended, you should be fine. I dont know what to tell you. Are you taking painkillers or any prescriptions?" Pete answered for me and told him the medications I was taking. His eyes widened. "That one, the one you just said, may you repeat it?" Pete said it one more time. "That is not the right medicine you should be taking. It has way too many side affects. This is why she is having trouble breathing. Does your chest feel heavy? Or clogged?" I nodded. "We need to get the medication out of your system immediately." He said. My first day in Paris and I was already in trouble.

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Pete's POV- I was scared to death. Cricket was my love, my life. I had gotten her like this... She could speak but not very well. Her voice wasn't as live and perky as it used to be. I prayed to god it would go back to normal as soon as she was better. I was shaken up since I woke up to her gasping for air. I lost it when the doctors didn't understand how serious this was. They had taken her from me. Wheeled her off to a cold room someplace where she was probably longing for my warm hand. I tried not to let things get to my head, but they always find a way. I wanted to find a cabinet somewhere filled with medicine, OD so I wouldn't have to deal with this constant guilt and pain.

No one understands what I go through on a day to day basis. No one except Cricket who I had caused to get hurt. To get into this mess. If she wouldn't have met me, if I hadn't thrown her that backstage pass, she would be walking, breathing, and not having her stomach pumped on a cold operation table. The thought made me sick. I was a terrible person. I decided that I couldn't stay. I didn't deserve to be there when she was happy again. I left the hospital and made my way to the dark tunnels under the city, where I didn't dare to show my face.