Narelle

A new beginning

Chapter 8 of 'Narelle'! Enjoy!
This is the finale of Narelle.

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*NARELLE'S POINT OF VIEW*

I've been stuck in this hospital for a couple of days now, but it feels like a couple of decades. My mother and Chase come to visit each day, but their time with me is limited as the annoying nurses don't want to 'overwhelm me', or so they say. I just think that they're jealous. Maybe they don't have friends of their own. It'd be understandable- the way that they constantly check up on me, they're so clingy. I get three hearty meals a day, with what seems to me like enormous portions. Maybe it's just been so long since I've had a decent meal, and that I forgot what it looks and tastes like. They've taken the IV drip out of me, and I feel like a swelled up balloon. But when I look at my stomach, it's just a little bigger than it was before. I'm still as skinny as a stick, but at least my ribcage isn't as visible. My bones in my arms aren't as visible either, which must mean that I'm recovering. Which I'm very glad about, for two reasons. One, I won't die, and two, I can get out of here. I still haven't got the blasted remote for the television, so all I have to entertain myself is the ceiling. The bare, bland and boring ceiling. I was originally looking at the poster for correct hand washing, but then the instructions were drilled into my head so much that I had to look away. I've repeated it to myself word for word about seven times, as I changed my scenery to the white vortex of boringness that is the ceiling.

Since this room has little to no detail, all I have to remotely entertain myself is my own imagination. And if you've got to know me, I don't really have an imagination. Since the passing of my father, my world as reduced to black and white, with no colour in my life. My life was, and still is (sort of) like an unfinished colouring in. I started off colourful and full of life, but then it got messed up and erased. Then for pretty much my whole life it stayed like that, until colour was added back in again. That colour was Chase- and recently, my mother. It's these thoughts about Chase and my mother that are keeping my mind afloat, like a choppy boat. It starts to sink if my mind ventures to the negatives, and rises back to the surface whenever I think about them. I don't really know why I'm comparing myself to things like a boat and colouring ins, but at least my mind is somewhat entertained.

At about three in the afternoon, there's a knock on my door. I know immediately who it is, even though my back is facing them. The knock is forceful, and there are rapid pauses in between each knock. Only one person I know would knock on a door like someone's chasing them- and the hint was in that sentence. It's Chase. My heart immediately pumps as adrenaline flows through my body. I feel like that every time I see him since we kissed. I don't know whether it's because I'm nervous, or overly excited. But when he enters, all of the adrenaline melts away to create a warm, fuzzy feeling. Looking at his chiseled jawline and his stunning eyes immediately calms me, and puts a smile on my face, something that no one's been able to accomplish since before the accident. Chase smiles too, as he makes his way to my bed.
"Afternoon," he says with a large grin on his face.
"Thank goodness you saved me from dying of boredom," I say thankfully. "What's that behind your back?"
He takes his hand away from behind his back, to reveal a bouquet of flowers. Endless flowers and countless colours were within it, and it took my breath away. Lilies, roses, daisies, peonies, chrysanthemums... you name any type of flower, and I guarantee you it would be in there. There were different shades of red, orange, yellows, pinks, purples, greens and blues, which made my head spin a bit if I looked directly at it for a while. Nevertheless, it was a stunning gesture, and i could feel my eyes glowing as they made their way to Chase's beaming face.
"I didn't know what your favourite flower was, so I just bought a bouquet that had them all," he said nervously, with his feet shifting on the floor like he was waiting for the result of an exam worth half his grade.
"I've never thought about what my favourite flower is," I ponder out loud. "It was never something that I'd think about. Colour was a distant memory to me. But this is a marvellous reminder and a lovely gesture. Thank you, Chase. You're amazing."
He replied with nothing. No witty comeback, no sheepish response, no mutter, no nothing. It was as if he was frozen in time, with his mind focused elsewhere.
"Are you okay?" I ask. "You look distracted."
Still no answer. After a couple more verbal attempts, I snap my fingers as loud as I can. That seems to do the trick and he jumps, as if he was in hypnosis and I was the hypnotiser.
"What'd you say?" he inquires, turning his focus towards me again.
"I said that you look distracted," I laugh.
"Well I am a little bit, to be honest," he says in response, his eyes not meeting mine. "But it's not something you should worry about. You've been through enough."
I raise an eyebrow. It's a party trick that I'd learnt ages ago, and it worked every time I wanted to know about something.
"If something's bothering you, then I have a right to know as your best friend," I lecture. "It's practically my duty. Never mind where I am or what I've been through, the world doesn't revolve around me. Now tell me, because I'm probably bound to find out anyway."
"It's Olivia," he huffs. "She came up to me today and starting asking about your whereabouts, the nosy cow. Obviously I didn't say anything about... this, I wouldn't do that. But since I wouldn't tell her anything, she's convinced that you're not turning up to school because you can't face the humiliation, whatever that means. She's gone around telling everyone that we had a secret thing and that I did something to break you. It's ludicrous, I know, and it took everything I had to not slap her and put some f**king sense into her demented head of hers," he finishes, working himself up into a rage.