The Life of a Freak

Chapter 8

I stayed in the hospital for the next two days, because, as the doctors gently put it, they needed to make sure I was 100 % well. That's nonsense. I was about to say another word instead of "nonsense", but decided not to write it.

Anyways, I spent the next two days in pure agony of being bored. I had absolutely nothing. To. Do.

I spent a few hours thinking. Three hours after that were spent daydreaming, and the two hours after that were spent playing with the edge of the hospital blanket. It had a hole and I was having fun enlarging it so that the doctors that kept me here could waste time sewing it back up (or who-ever is in charge of that. Blanking sewer, whatever). And then I started taking out the thread from the blanket. I'm sorry, but the nurse didn't even bring me a game or book. I would have been totally happy if she would have brought a coloring book for three year olds and said:

-Here sweetheart, spend the next two hours drawing mermaids and unicorns!

But no. Not even a coloring book was brought to me on a silver-platter.

I should be happy that I survived. But no. I kept wishing that it was Mom's, or Dad's, airbag that was still working so Ian wouldn't have the right to call himself an orphan when he would have woken up. I'm sure he would get over my death much faster than that of his parents.

The nurses came in regularly to check on me but I didn't dare ask for anything. Now that I think of it, I should have. The blanket-sewers would have less work to do on my blanket that I was destructing. The blanket and me were now equally broken down on the inside: I felt as though my heart had been twisted, stabbed 23 times, cut up into pieces and then sewed back together.

Why didn't Peter visit me anymore? Did he not know I was awake? Had no one told him yet? I mean, come on. The doctors saw how he sat next to my bed holding my hand. Why didn't they phone his parents or something?

I desperately wanted someone to visit me. I was told that Grandma and Grandpa also visited me while I was unconscious. But they, too, somehow didn't manage to visit me while I was awake.

Just as I thought that, Grandma came into my "room".

-Oh Amy! We thought we'd lost you too!!

I'm sorry, but someone just doesn't die of small cuts all over their body. I did have a pretty deep gash on my forehead though, and I apparently lost a lot of blood from there. I guess it could have been fatal.

Also, airbags, when used, sometimes can break a rib. Luckily for me, that didn't happen.

But I wasn't lucky. My parents died, for goodness' sake!

Grandma and I had a long talk about how she and Grandpa loved me and Ian greatly, even though they didn't visit us often. I also learned some other news from her.

-Amy, we will be moving into your house soon. We are now your brother's and your legal guardians, so we will live with you. We decided that since you already had a lot going on, especially now that your...Mom (when she said that, a small tear cascaded down her soft, round cheek) and Dad...Oh Amy, I'm so sorry...That you wouldn't have to move halfway across the country to our small cottage.

-And also... We already visited Ian. He didn't wake up yet from his coma but the doctors assured us that he would soon. We thought that maybe you would like to visit him... Maybe with your boyfriend or whoever he is.

-He's not my boyfriend, Grandma. He's just a friend. And his name's Peter.

-Whatever. Judging by how he sat with you while you were away, I'm just saying that there's a high chance that that boy's got feeling towards you. And I'm more than sure that he wouldn't mind accompanying you to visit your brother, who happens to be it another hospital nearby, where patients in comas usually reside in.