I Dont Do Too Well On My Own

The Fourty-Second Chapter

Later I walk over towards Patrick. The lights are starting to get to me. Blinking and throwing me off course.

Someone bumps into my side, where my scar is, and I gasp, clinging onto the throbbing pain. It shouldnt be this bad.

I walk over to Patrick and tap on his shoulder, clinging onto my side with one hand.

"Patrick." I gasp.

He turns around with a smile but immediately pulls a much scarier face.

"I dont know whether its just cramps but this hurts and I dont know what to do."

He licks over his lips and carefully places a hand on my side. He looks into my eyes as they widen and I flinch. His hand runs over where my scar is carefully and I wince.

"I dont know why Ive come to you, but you just seem to know what to do. I dont know what to do and you seem like you are clever and-"

"Sh. Calm down. Just calm. Im feeling for something." Patrick says sternly.

I try and slow my breathing. Each time I breathe it hurts. His fingers caress over my side, carefully feeling over my scar. It hurts. I cant describe or compare it.

Everything is slow and I furrow my eyebrows. Am I hallucinating? This is shit. I thought hallucinating would be a lot more fun...

"I think he gave me alcohol." I slur slowly.

"Skye, I think we have a problem here. The doctor told me-"

My knees buckle and Patrick grabs me before I hit the floor.

"Yeah, we definitely have a problem."

Its like Ive taken off some glasses and am now long sighted and short sighted at once. Everything is blurry and my side feels on fire.

"Okay. Okay. Hospital, now." Patrick says nervously, holding onto me like a limp doll.

If you imagine a filter on the music, like you put a cup over the speaker, thats what Im hearing. Its not as good as the unfiltered version.

"Lets go... Can you walk."

I groan quietly.

"Okay... No? Pete?"

He slings my arm over his shoulder and I let myself hang limply. The pain is spreading through my body slowly, numbing me.

"Pete, start the car, we are going to the hospital."

I look up at the wall. Its midnight, when the whole party is meant to end. Thank fuck I didnt ruin their night... Completely.

"Okay, youre going to be alright."

My feet drag along the floor as Patrick tries to take me outside.

"Just try and stay awake."

I hear a car door open and I slump in the back. I groan as the pain intensifies.

"Damn alcohol..." Patrick mutters.

The passing street lights are like strobe lights and Pete and Patricks voices are quietly muffled in the front.

The journey lasts seven intense pains. They come in waves, you see.

I thing somewhere in I start crying. But its just tears because sobbing stings like a bitch.

"Okay, okay. Youre okay." Patrick says, feeling the side of my face carefully.

I close my eyes to deal with the pain and someone lifts me. How polite.

It may as well be a blow torch burning my sides. It would be easier to understand anyway.

"Please, please, please." Patrick is muttering.

His feet a clacking on the floor quietly. He pulls me close to him and I curl to his chest. The warm material brushes and bunches against my face. His racing heartbeat reassures me slightly, in a weird way. Like, maybe Im not going to die.

The next wave of pain arrives and I close my eyes.

Okay, maybe I will. Who knows?